


A Princess' Favor

by meleonon



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2020-10-17 00:00:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 60,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20611553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meleonon/pseuds/meleonon
Summary: What if King Aerys died of natural causes? What if Rhaegar became King and Robert's Rebellion never happened?Princess Daenerys Targaryen asked for one thing on her fourteenth nameday, the ability to choose who and when she marries. Nearing her eighteenth nameday, King Rhaegar returns from quashing the Greyjoy rebellion, a group of northerners in tow as he plans on knighting a worthy lord.





	1. A King's Return

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, first things first: I've changed Daenerys' age quite a bit in this story to get her to fit logically in this timeline. Here are some of the important dates;  
Jorah born: 254 AC married: 271 AC widowed: 281  
Dany born: 271 AC  
Rhaegar takes throne: 284 AC  
Current year: 289 AC
> 
> Now that that is out of the way, I've gotten a good portion of this story already written out (plus another one I've been working on, but that one will have to wait). I'm hoping that people will like it, even just a little bit :)

“Princess, they say that King Rhaegar is returning today.”

Princess Daenerys Targaryen tilted her head back to look at her handmaiden with a smile.

“Good, I’m glad. Thank you for doing my hair Missandei, you always do a perfect job.” Standing up from her chair and patting her dress skirt down, Daenerys looped her arm through the Naath girl’s as they walked out of her chambers.

Her brother Rhaegar, back before he was King of the Seven Kingdoms, had traveled a lot and on one of his journeys he saved Missandei from her master and brought her home with him to Westeros.

“Are you excited to see your brother again Princess?” Missandei asked curiously, she was fond of the oldest Targaryen as he was a kind soul.

“Yes, I am. I’m happy that he’s making it home before my eighteenth name day.” Daenerys told her handmaiden that was more of a friend than anything.

“Do you know what you are going to ask him for?”

Daenerys hummed as she thought about what she even wanted for her name day.

The last time she had actually known what to ask for had been on her fourteenth name day and she had been so glad when he had granted her her wish.

_“What do you want for your name day dear sister?”_

_“The ability to choose whom I marry and when I marry.”_

It was so invigorating to know that she wasn’t going to be forced into some man’s bed because it was ‘necessary for the kingdom’.

“I’m not sure actually. I haven’t decided yet.” She admitted, smiling at her friend brightly.

“Dany.” Viserys’ shrill voice cut through the room when they entered, her older brother stomping over to them, obviously in a mood.

“Viserys, what’s wrong this time?” Daenerys asked him, wanting to roll her eyes at him when he started going on and on about how her stupid horse had spat in his face when he walked past it earlier and she should train it to not be so stupid.

Reassuring him that she would fix the issue (she wouldn’t) and that she was sorry that it had happened (she wasn’t), she led Missandei to the table so they could break their fast.

They talked about how Viserys was such a pissy baby, especially after their father had died.

Everyone had been shocked when the news that King Aerys had died in the middle of the night in his bed, but whenever she wandered through the streets, which was something that her brother didn’t know she did and would have a fit if he ever learned that she walks among the common folk of King’s Landing without a guard, she not once had heard anyone be truly saddened by the death of her father.

Both girls smiled innocently when Septa Yoana sat down across from the princess, her old and weary face brightened with a smile.

“Did you girls have a good night?” The older woman asked, her eyes sad as she looked at the girl she had practically raised after Queen Rhaella, Daenerys’ mother, had died in childbrith.

“Yes Septa.” Daenerys nodded politely, the older woman had been like a mother to her and at times acted as a sister, especially as she got older

“Yes.” Missandei answered after Daenerys quietly, finishing up her breakfast.

“Rhaegar’s coming home today.” The Septa told the girls, unaware that they both already had heard.

“Yes, I’m hoping he’s okay.” Daenerys said to her, worry tinging her voice.

She had laid in bed many nights since Rhaegar had gone to deal with the Greyjoy rebellion at Pyke and Daenerys worried about him, having nightmares that he is killed and Viserys gets the throne.

“He is. I got a raven this morning.” Yoana informed her as she picked at her own breakfast.

“He’s coming back with a group of northerners.” She said with a sigh and they all looked to Viserys when he snorted disdainfully.

“Oh great, he’s coming back with a bunch of wolf-fuckers? Can’t he just let them go back north where they belong?” The silver haired man whined, smashing a roll in his hand and letting it fall to the table.

Daenerys herself was curious as to why Rhaegar was bringing the northerners south, from what she knew, they didn’t like coming down south for anything.

The only time she could remember seeing someone from the north was back during Rhaegar’s coronation when they came south to swear fealty to the new Targaryen king, and even then they hadn’t stayed long.

They stayed a day at the most and she hadn’t talked to a single one, though one man had caught her thirteen year old eye and curiosity.

He had been standing next to a very large, bushy bearded man, both of their eyes an icy shade of blue and their shoulders buried under large brown pelts. His hair was a rich blonde, his beard full and shone almost ginger in the light

Daenerys had met his gaze and blushed after he caught her staring at him, his eyebrow cocking at her and a smirk on his lips that had disappeared moments later when he turned to who she assumed was his father and spoke to him.

She remembered wanting to talk with him, to at least learn his name, but after the coronation, she never saw the man again.

“Viserys...” Septa Yoana sighed, shaking her head in exasperation at the prince’s disdain for the north.

“What? It’s true, everyone says it.” He snorted, standing from the table and leaving them with a haughty huff.

“Did the letter say why he’s bringing them south?” Daenerys questioned after her brother left.

“No, it didn’t. But if I had to guess, I’d say Rhaegar is going to knight one of them.” The older woman said softly before getting up from the table and leaving them alone.

Missandei buzzed with excitement, her face breaking out in a grin.

“Do you really think that the King is going to knight someone?” She asked her friend, her dark eyes meeting Daenerys’.

“Maybe and that would mean he’d throw a tourney.” Daenerys couldn’t help but feel the excitement in her build as she thought of the last tourney she had watched and how people’s morale had increased during and after the celebration.

She was a sucker for love and the crowning of the Queen of Love and Beauty had always made her heart glow brightly. The blue winter rose crown had always charmed her and Daenerys dreamt of one day receiving one herself, put on top of her head by a handsome knight.

“I do hope so!” Missandei said longingly, both of them breaking out into giggles.

Getting up from the table, they returned to Daenerys’ chambers to await Rhaegar’s arrival and talk about the possible tourney.

They discussed what they were most excited about. Daenerys loved seeing all the horses and the Lords and Knights seated on the armored animals while Missandei enjoyed the different vendor stalls that inevitably popped up in the streets and showed off their merchandise, though she rarely bought anything.

When one of the servants came in and informed her that her brother had returned, Daenerys and Missandei left her chambers and made their way to the throne room where Rhaegar was waiting, still donning his ruby studded armor.

“Rhaegar!” She ran to her brother and threw her arms around his neck, laughing as he spun her around once before placing her down.

“Dany, it’s good to see you little sister.” He told her, rubbing the top of her head like she was a small child.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” She held herself back from saying she was worried for him, knowing he would laugh it off and tell her that she shouldn’t have worried.

“Come now.” Daenerys smiled at him when he motioned for her and Missandei to follow him out of the throne room

Rhaegar’s wife, Elia, fell in beside Daenerys as they walked out of the Red Keep, the other woman smiling at her good sister gently.

“Where are we going Rhaegar?” Daenerys questioned, meeting his violet gaze when he looked back at her.

“The Sept of Baelor.” He told her simply and Daenerys grinned. Her Septa had been right.

“You’re knighting a northern man?” She stated, less of a question at this point.

“I am. For his bravery. He was the second through the breach at Pyke. That moment was sure a spectacle that I’m sure no one there will forget.” Rhaegar laughed with an amused sigh.

“What do you mean?” His wife, Elia questioned curiously.

Rhaegar continued to laugh for a few more moments before sobering up and turning his head back to look at them.

“Everyone was standing in wait, we were at a standstill in the fight. At least until this single man rushes across the bridge, waving his flaming sword around, following him in was this northern lord and with that, they turned the tides of the battle and we were able to quash the rebellion.” He told them and they could all imagine how strange it must have looked.

“So why are you knighting only the second one through the breach? Why not the first one?” Daenerys asked in confusion.

“Ah, well I offered to knight him, but he turned down the offer.” Rhaegar told her before they entered the Sept where the northerners were waiting, the group of them going silent when their King came in, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Ser Barristan Selmy announcing the King’s titles and they all watched the men, and women Daenerys noticed curiously, fall to their knees.

Rhaegar left the group that had followed him from the Red Keep and went to stand in front one of the men.

“Stand and kneel in the center here.” Rhaegar ordered the man, who did as he was told and Daenerys couldn’t help but notice that it was the same man that had caught her eye all those years ago.

The room went silent as Rhaegar drew his sword, resting it on the other man’s shoulder as he kneeled before his king.

Daenerys drowned out what her brother was actually saying, instead she took the time to look over the man closer.

From his stubbly jaw to his straight nose and sharp, prominent cheekbones. His ginger-blonde hair curled at the nape of his neck and she had the urge to run her fingers through it to see if was as soft as it looked.

Since she was paying so much attention to the man, she couldn’t help but notice how miserable he looked.

“Rise now, as a knight of the Seven Kingdoms, Ser Jorah Mormont.” Rhaegar’s voice finally returned to her and she couldn’t help but smile as she learned the man’s name.

“Ser Jorah Mormont.” She whispered under her breath and glanced over at Missandei when the girl started giggling.

“What?” Daenerys asked quietly, meeting her dark eyes.

“Sounds like someone is smitten.” Missandei japed, nudging her with her elbow.

“I am not.” She argued back, though she wondered if perhaps her friend was a little bit correct in her judgement.

“Whatever you say Princess.”

After her brother had knighted the second man that they hadn’t really talked about beforehand and that Daenerys didn’t catch his name, people gathered around the newly made knights to give their congratulations.

Shoving her way through the group of northmen, Daenerys made her way to the front so she could greet Ser Mormont.

_No..._ She thought as the name passed through her head _...Ser Jorah sounds much better than Ser Mormont._

Daenerys couldn’t say where Ser Jorah would be from as she wasn’t all that familiar with the names of the northern houses. She could tell you the Starks lived in Winterfell but beyond that she always struggled to remember who lived where.

Stopping in front of the man, she was surprised to see how tall he was, his broad shoulders tapering into a narrow waist.

“Congratulations Ser Jorah Mormont. You’re big...brave I mean.” She blurted out nervously, mentally smacking herself as the words left her mouth and she just knew he’d think she was weird. It wasn’t even as if he was super big anyways, so she couldn’t understand why her brain had decided that it was remotely necessary to say it.

She felt her face get hot, but when he laughed, she couldn’t help but chuckle with him.

“Aye, it’s because I’m half bear.” His accent was light and his voice silky smooth, with an undertone of gruffness.

“Truly?” Daenerys joked back with a soft giggle, her violet eyes meeting his twinkling blue.

He leaned in towards her a bit, as if he were telling her a secret.

“Aye, just don’t tell anyone.” Standing up straight again, he winked at her and made her face burn even hotter than before.

Another man came over to congratulate Ser Jorah and Daenerys was swept away by all of the other people.

She met back up with Missandei outside the Sept, the other girl grinned widely at her.

“So...how’d it go?” Even though her friend didn’t specify what she was talking about, Daenerys knew her well enough.

“Oh, just wonderfully. It was awkward as hell thanks to me.” Daenerys rolled her eyes with a sigh, walking with Missandei down the street slowly, neither of them in a hurry to return back to the Red Keep.

“Aww, you’re just in love Daenerys.” The Naath girl cooed sweetly, giggling when Daenerys swatted at her.

“Stop it Missandei, I don’t know anything about him other than his name. He’s probably already married anyways.” She sighed remorsefully, knowing it was common for men his age to already be married with a couple of children already.

They walked by vendors in the street selling their wares, the people working them calling passerbys over to examine and hopefully buy what they are trading.

Neither of them stopped to look at the shiny trinkets, the items would likely triple in price the moment they noticed it was the crowned princess that was perusing their stall.

“He’s right over there if you want to go talk to him.” Missandei whispered in her ear, motioning discreetly over to where the newly knighted man was walking.

“I...I don’t know...I don’t want to seem pushy.” Daenerys in all honesty was a bit nervous about going over to him and striking up another conversation. He seemed liked a sweet man, but interacting with the man that you admittedly have a bit of a crush on was almost too much for the Targaryen Princess.

“Dany, you’re a dragon! And the crown princess, he should be the one falling at your feet wanting to talk to you.” Missandei tried to reassure her and it worked to a degree.

Taking a deep breath, Daenerys looked at her friend with a nervous smile.

“Wish me luck.” With that, she made her way over to Ser Jorah, pausing for a few moments as she waited for the man that he had finished talking with to walk away.

She watched the man sigh in what seemed like relief before she walked up to him.

“Ser?” She called out, meeting his gaze with a gentle smile.

“My Lady? Can I help you with something?” He asked, shifting on his feet and looking quite uncomfortable. Daenerys almost got the idea that he wanted her to leave him alone and it made her pause for a moment.

“No, not really. I...I just realized that I didn’t...” Daenerys started saying before he cut her off by raising his hand up.

“If I can’t help you with something, then can it please wait?” Ser Jorah ground out and sounding like he was in pain.

Daenerys didn’t like being interrupted in the middle of a sentence nor being told that whatever she had to say had to wait.

Crossing her arms, she glared at him in annoyance.

“Is there something wrong Ser?” She asked harshly with a frown.

“It’s just that everyone seems to want to stop me and talk and I really need to piss.” He told her honestly, the bluntness of it made her laugh softly.

“Oh, I’m sorry then. We...can talk afterwards.” Daenerys said with a chuckle, motioning that she would wait for him.

Missandei came over to her when Ser Jorah walked off and placed her hand on her shoulder.

“Is everything okay Princess?” Her friend asked worriedly, looking in the direction that the knight had gone.

“Yes, he just had to...well...empty his bladder.” She told her with a chuckle.

“Apparently he’s been trying to get away from everyone that wants to talk to him so he can relieve himself.”

“Ah, okay. He’s going to come back then?” She asked, her voice betraying her amusement and Daenerys nodded.

“Yeah, he better.”

The girls laughed and when Ser Jorah came back over, looking much less miserable, Missandei bowed and took her leave.

“Sorry about that.” He stopped in front of her, his eyes drifting to the girl that had just left the silver haired girl’s side.

“It’s fine. Anyways, like I was saying before, I realized I never introduced myself.” She had to tilt her head back to look him in the eyes and it made her feel short and still childlike.

“My name is Dany. And yours?” Daenerys said without really thinking about giving him her nickname opposed to her full name nor about the fact that she already knew his name and had greeted him as such earlier. She pursed her lips as she mentally berated herself again, why did she keep making things awkward but she hoped that he had forgotten that she had called him by name not too long ago.

She got the feeling that he didn’t know she was the Princess, his behavior around her was unlike the men that knew her, all their fancy airs and fake pleasantries and it was refreshing.

He laughed, cocking an eyebrow at her inquisitively.

“Do I truly have that forgettable of a name? Ser Jorah Mormont, my lady.” He chuckled at her embarrassed expression then schooled his face to be more serious.

“Dany, it’s a pretty name. You have a family name?” Ser Jorah asked, tilting his head at her curiously.

Biting her lip, she hadn’t really put thought into what to say should he ask that and she was thankfully saved by Missandei coming over.

“Dany, we really should get back.” The Naath girl told her friend, meeting Ser Jorah’s gaze politely.

“Alright. It was pleasant meeting you Ser. Hopefully we can see one another at some other time.” Daenerys said to him, curtsying with a charming giggle before following Missandei back to the Red Keep.

“I’m sorry about that Princess, your brother was just asking about you, he wants to talk to you about something.” Her handmaiden smiled when Daenerys gave her a look.

“Why didn’t he just come over to me himself?” Daenerys asked in confusion. It’s not like her friend was all that far away from where her and Ser Jorah had been talking.

“He didn’t want to interrupt you and Ser Jorah.” She replied with an amused chuckle when Daenerys rolled her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll go find him then.” The Targaryen Princess left her friend and went to find her brother in the Red Keep, knowing that she was talking about Rhaegar and not Viserys since the latter would have went out of his way to interrupt her conversation with Ser Jorah.

Nodding to Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Jaime Lannister as she walked into her brother’s study, Daenerys curtsied to Rhaegar and smiled at him.

The King’s study was buried in books of all sorts, scrolls from the time her father had ruled still lined the bookshelves against the wall. The biggest attraction in the room had to be her brother’s harp that he loved to play while he sang.

“You wished to speak with me?” She greeted him, watching the way his face lit up when he saw her.

“Dany, yes I did. I wanted to know if you were interested in coming to the tourney that I’m...” He didn’t finish his question before Daenerys cut in excitedly.

“Yes, I am very interested in going.” She told him, making him chuckle.

Rhaegar shuffled a few papers around on his desk as he continued talking to his sister.

“I also invited the northern lords to dine with us tonight.” He said conversationally, not looking at her as he spoke, but the small smile on his face made Daenerys eye him suspiciously.

She didn’t say anything, not even sure what he had wanted her to say to his comment.

“Is that all Your Grace?” Daenerys eventually asked when he didn’t say anything else.

Rhaegar looked at her then, his smile growing across as his face as he spoke again.

“You seemed to be quite friendly with Lord Mormont.” Rhaegar pointed out with a grin, laughing when his sister glared daggers at him.

“Is it wrong to congratulate him for earning his knightship?” Glowering at him, she was annoyed that everyone around her seemed to be able to see her small crush on the northern lord.

“No, not at all. That will be it.” Rhaegar said, his voice still full of amusement as she turned around to leave, but he spoke up when her hand was against the door to open it, stopping her dead in her tracks.

“I’ll have him seated next to you at dinner.”

Shooting him a venomous look, Daenerys walked out the door and past the two members of the kingsguard in a huff.

She was honestly expecting her brother to do as he had teased her with, but come dinner time she found herself seated, not next to Lord Mormont, but some other northern man.

In fact, she didn’t see Lord Mormont anywhere at the table.

Glancing at the northern man at her side, she shot him a charming smile.

“I must apologize, I seem to have missed your name.” She said to the man, who wiped his mouth with his sleeve and swallowed the food in his mouth, giving her a charming grin.

“Brandon Stark. Eldest son of Lord Rickard Stark.” He kissed her knuckles, which she discreetly wiped off on her skirt as she continued to talk to him.

“I’ve noticed that Lord Mormont isn’t present.” Daenerys said off handedly, gently patting her lips with her napkin before placing the cloth in her lap.

“Oh, aye. He had to stay back at the camp.” Brandon told her with a chuckle, sticking another chunk of meat into his mouth and speaking around it.

“Oh? Was something the matter?” She hoped he hadn’t gotten injured in some fight, though she cursed herself mentally for being so interested in the man that she knew next to nothing about.

Brandon laughed, shrugging his shoulders and meeting her gaze.

“His younger cousin snuck her way to the camp. Apparently she was with us ever since he left Bear Island and no one ever noticed she was with us. He’s writing a letter to her mother to let her know where she’s at.” Brandon told her and she nodded her thanks, turning to look at Missandei on her other side.

The knowing look on her friend’s face had her promptly turn her attention to her food with a frown.

Throughout the rest of supper, Brandon tried a few times to catch her attention and talk with her, but she gave him clipped answers and always tried to find something to divert her focus to when he did.

When she and Missandei retired to her room after dinner, Daenerys sighed in relief.

“You know...I’m happy for you Princess.” Missandei said out of the blue, causing Daenerys to pause in her removal of her dress.

“Happy about what?” She asked, letting the dress fall to the floor as she worked on the corset that felt more of a constrictor.

“Happy that you’ve finally found someone you like. You’ve never had a lover before.” She knew her friend meant well, but Daenerys knew it wouldn’t work between herself and Ser Jorah.

It wouldn’t be long before he returned back north and she would likely never see him again.

Daenerys didn’t say anything to her friend’s comment, instead she slipped into bed and listened as the other girl blew the candles out and slipped into her own bed.

“I...am sorry Princess if I have offended you.” Missandei offered and Daenerys sighed gently.

“You haven’t my friend, it’s just...nothing is going to come out of it. I found out he’s from Bear Island and so I checked on a map to see where it’s located.” She sighed again, pulling the blankets up to cover her shoulders more.

“It’s in this far corner in the northwest, just south of the Wall.” Daenerys told her friend and shrugged off the other girl’s apologies.


	2. A Princess' Favor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really happy with the kind reception this story has gotten so far! I'm glad you all seem to like it and I'm sure you'll be happy to know that I've gotten roughly nine chapters written out now (with more to come).

The day of the tourney arrived and people were bustling around the city excitedly, wanting to make sure they got a good seat to watch all the action.

Daenerys and Missandei were making their way to the jousting arena when something made the Targaryen pause.

Touching Missandei’s arm gently, she told her friend that she’d catch up with her in a bit.

Missandei looked like she was about to argue, but when she looked at what, or who, Daenerys was staring at, she smiled knowingly and agreed, leaving her friend to what she needed to do.

Daenerys pushed past the people that kept getting in her way, stopping a short distance from one of the market stalls where a man was flirting with another woman.

“You’ve really killed a bear before?” The blonde haired woman asked in coy surprise, running her fingers down his arm and biting her lip at him.

“Aye, I have. Made a cloak out of his pelt too.” The knight puffed up under the woman’s attention, his eyes focused solely on her.

“Oh wow! I bet it’s soft and a wonderful place to make love on.” The woman giggled slyly, earning a hardy chuckle from the northern lord.

“Hmm, I’ve never tried before. Perhaps I’ll have to remedy that soon.”

Daenerys’ temper flared when he ran his knuckles down her cheek affectionately and she closed the distance between them.

“Ser Jorah! Fancy running into you here. You plan on participating in the joust today?” Daenerys rested her hand on his bicep, squeezing his arm firmly and catching the gaze of the woman that was giving her a dirty look for interrupting them.

“Aye, I am my lady.” He said, looking stunned and a bit dazed, so she took this moment to lead him away from the other woman, her awkwardness fading away as jealousy raged.

“Have you ever jousted before?” She questioned him, her arm looped through his as they made their way through the crowds and she noticed they were much more willing to part for a man of Ser Jorah’s stature than her petite one.

“No, I haven’t. But I’ve rode horses before, so surely it won’t be that difficult.” Ser Jorah said almost pompously and she was glad his attentions have been diverted from that other woman to her.

They made it to the arena and she followed him down to where all the other men preparing for the joust were getting suited up.

Turning in his grasp, Daenerys faced him with a bright smile.

“I believe that you will win Ser.” She told him, though she knew that there were many of the best jousters here today, vying to be the winner so they could crown their chosen woman as the Queen of Love and Beauty.

“Aye, when I’ve got the favor of my Maiden Fair, how could I lose?” He said with a laugh and it was then that she noticed the other woman’s scarf tied around his arm.

“Indeed, the Bear that wears his Maiden Fair’s favor is bound to win.” Daenerys untied the other woman’s scarf and retied her own on his arm, blessing his cheek with a soft kiss and giving him another bright smile.

She turned and left him then, swaying her hips, aware of his stare on her backside.

Daenerys then made her way back to the audience seating, finding Missandei and sitting next to her before she burst into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Her friend asked, holding her arm gently.

“I removed another woman’s favor from Ser Jorah’s arm before replacing it with mine, he seemed surprised I would be so bold.” Waving the scarf she had taken around with a smile, she handed it to her friend.

They chatted while they waited for the tourney to start, the noise of the arena engulfed everyone and made it hard to hear the person next to you, but the moment that the horn was blown that announced the beginning, the whole stadium went silent.

The jousters rode out on their horses, parading around the center ring in show, their armor shining in the morning sun and their horses strutting around with heads held high, before they all stopped in a horizontal line in front of the King’s seat.

“Which one is Ser Jorah?” Missandei whispered to her, leaning over to talk into her ear.

Bobbing her head as she looked over all the armored up knights, she pursed her lips as she tried to pick out Ser Jorah from all the other helmeted men.

Turning her focus on checking the banners and sigils out, she finally found him.

“You see the one holding the green one with the black bear on it? That’s him.” Now that she knew where he was, Daenerys couldn’t help but stare at him.

His mount was a great black stallion that looked fuzzy, likely the horse had a coat well suited for the cold northern temperatures.

She also noticed that his armor was less gaudy and looked less well made than the other participants’ armor.

The ones that weren’t starting off returned to wait for their turn, while the first two began to prepare for their joust.

There were quite a number of accomplished jousters participating in the tourney, a number of them were members of her brother’s kingsguard.

It was the third match that had Daenerys on the edge of her seat, Ser Jorah was facing Lord Jason Mallister.

She had heard all the people around her snickering at the poorest Lord in the seven kingdoms’ expense, betting against Ser Jorah in Lord Mallister’s favor as he was quite an accomplished jouster.

Her heart raced as the horses hooves pounded into the ground as they ran at one another. Their lances dropped as they closed in and Daenerys flinched when the long wooden lances rammed into the other person and she, and everyone else, froze in shock as they watched the man slip from his horse’s back and land heavily on the ground.

Ser Jorah turned his horse around and looked at the Lord he had knocked from his horse on the first go, riding over to the man and offering his hand to help him up.

The crowd cheered for the victor of the round, though many were out money due to their bets.

No one had expected for the poor Bear Lord to make his way up through the list, many of them have never even heard of Bear Island, so when this newly knighted Lord started knocking fan favorites and crowned champions from their horses, it caused quite a spectacle.

Ser Jorah continued his quick streak of knocking opponents from their horses.

In his second round, he defeated Lord Yohn Royce in the second run through, his lance knocking the larger man straight off the rump of the animal.

The third round found Ser Ryman Frey bashed clear off his horse on the first hit, the Frey’s lance never having even hit the Bear Lord.

Ser Hosteen Frey tried to accomplish what his brother hadn’t, but failed just as spectacularly.

At this point, the watchers were murmuring about the new knight, amazed that he had made it as far as he had and wondering who would end up knocking him out.

Both Lord Whent and Ser Lyle Crakehall gave Ser Jorah more problems than his previous opponents, taking near six and seven runs to knock them off their horse and when he did, the people cheered louder, their laughter ringing through the streets.

In the penultimate round, Ser Jorah faced off of one of Rhaegar’s kingsguard and one of the biggest fan favorites, Ser Boros Blount.

Daenerys heard the chitter chatter of people, once again, betting against the Mormont, believing that Ser Boros would be the one that would finally unhorse the upstart knight, but Daenerys cheered for him louder because of it.

Hooves pounding and armor clanking, they rode towards the other, lances dropping and smashing into the other man, they raced past one another and Ser Boros fell.

The kingsguard stood, shaking off his defeat with laughter and congratulating Ser Jorah for his win that put him into the finals.

Ser Jorah seemed shocked, having not believed that he would make it this far, but more determined than ever to win it now.

It was in the finals that Ser Jorah faced off against Ser Jaime Lannister, the young man that had all the women swooning and all the men betting for him.

Ser Jaime had participated in countless jousts and he could count on one hand the number of them that he has lost, so of course everyone expected the young Lannister man to win.

Around and around they went, neither of them falling nor giving in.

Lance after lance they broke, matching each other for five, six, seven rounds.

Everyone was on the edge of their seat, waiting for one of them to fall, waiting to see who would win it all.

On the eighth run, Ser Jorah broke his lance against Ser Jaime, but the Lannister didn’t break his against the bear lord.

They ran around again, this time both lances broke and Ser Jorah shifted in his seat and everyone stood up, thinking this was the end.

That finally, Ser Jaime had won.

But with the stubbornness that Mormonts are known for in the north, Ser Jorah righted himself before he fell and finished the run sitting up straight in his saddle.

“I’m calling it done! Ser Jorah has broken nine lances against Ser Jaime’s eight. Ser Jorah Mormont is the champion!” Rhaegar declared, standing up and raising his hand up to quiet everyone.

No one could believe it.

The Lord from the north had won.

The crowd cheered and Ser Jorah looked dazed.

Ser Jaime rode over to the champion, shaking the other knight’s hand.

“Congratulations. You’ve made a lot of people unhappy tonight I’m sure, but you deserve this win. I can’t remember the last time I’ve ever had such a difficult opponent.” Ser Jaime grinned at the other man before riding off on the horse that was now Ser Jorah’s as the losing man always had to hand over his horse and the armor off his back.

“Come forward Ser Jorah.” King Rhaegar Targaryen called out, holding out his hand to beckon the stunned northern man over.

“Congratulations on your win. I present to you this crown of blue winter’s roses to offer to your Queen of Love and Beauty.” The King smiled kindly at him, handing him down the flower crown.

Ser Jorah held the flowers in his hand, their gentle scent wafting up to his nose as he searched the crowd for one woman.

Urging his horse forward, he slowly made his way around the spectators, stopping in front of the woman he had been searching for.

“My Lady...” Holding the flower crown up in offering, Ser Jorah smiled at Daenerys as she bowed her head in acceptance, her face breaking out in a huge grin.

With a quick glance over at her brother, she saw the way Rhaegar smiled happily at her before she stood up and climbed the fence that separated the watchers from the joust. Jumping over the edge, she landed on the back of his horse and wrapped her arms around his waist as he tried to settle the animal.

Clicking his tongue, he got the horse moving and as they rode around the people who were watching them, some of them started reaching out as they rode by, calling out to her.

“Princess!”

“Princess Daenerys!”

His head snapped around to look at her out of the corner of his eye but his attention returned to in front of them so his horse didn’t end up heading somewhere it wasn’t supposed to.

He returned to the northern camp, slowing the horse to a stop before hopping down and turning towards her so he could help her slide off.

Ser Jorah stared at her in shock for a long while and she chuckled nervously, brushing a strand of hair that had been knocked loose from the ride behind her ear.

“You’re Princess Daenerys Targaryen?” He asked her in disbelief.

“I am.” She admitted, watching him drop to one knee and bow his head.

“My apologies Princess, I had no idea.” Daenerys smiled softly at him, resting her hand on his head and letting her fingers run though his soft hair.

“There is nothing to be sorry for Ser. I quite liked the way you behaved around me. I get tired of all the fake pleasantries and false words of worship.” She told him, urging him to look up at her with her palm on his cheek.

He stood up straight then, looking her in the eye and seeing she meant what she said.

“I am curious though...how did you not pick up that I was the princess? Typically one only needs to see my silver hair and violet eyes to know who I am.” Resting her hand on his cheek, Daenerys let her fingers play with his coarse beard.

Ser Jorah stared at her thoughtfully for a moment then shook his head.

“Truly, now that you’ve pointed it out, I’m not entirely sure how I never made the connection before. I’ll just blame it on the fact I’ve only seen you Targaryen’s once before and this gods blasted heat muddles my head.” He shrugged, leaning into her touch with a gentle smile that made him look more handsome.

Daenerys laughed at his statement.

“It’s not hot out Ser, not at all. It’s quite pleasant honestly. It’s probably due to the fact that you are wearing wool and a heavy set of armor.” She teased him, her hand dropping to rest against his wool sleeve as she met his gaze.

“Believe me, it’s miserable here. I slept naked last night and was still sweating like a hog.” He informed her and she laughed, terribly unused to anyone, least of all men, talking to her like he does.

“I’m used to the north Princess, where it gets cold enough to kill a man if he is out for too long. So this...” He waved his hand at all the greenery and flowers around them.

“This is horribly hot.” Jorah finished saying.

Stepping closer to him, she placed her hand on the center of his chestplate and looked up at him coyly.

“Then perhaps we should remove some of these layers so you can cool off Ser.” Biting her lip, Daenerys could feel her heart racing like it has never done before. Being surrounded by his masculine scent awakened something in her that she’s never experienced so intensely.

Ser Jorah grabbed her hands and gently brought them down from his chest, looking at her apologetically.

“While that is a very tempting offer Princess. I am going to have to respectfully decline.”

She met his eyes, her gaze hurt and confused.

“Why? You don’t want me? Then why did you name me your Queen?” Pulling her hands out of his, she crossed her arms across her chest.

Jorah sighed and ran his hand through his hair as he tried to formulate how best to turn her down without hurting her.

“You’re the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms. I assume you are still a maiden?” He asked and her face went red at the question.

“Of course I am.” Daenerys replied with a frown, offended at the inquiry.

“And as the Princess, I’m sure your future husband will be expecting you to be a maiden on your wedding night.” He explained, his eyebrows furrowing when she turned her back on him in anger.

“What is it with you men and wanting to make sure your wives are brought to you maidens? Most women don’t care or already know that their husband has been with other women and we don’t make a fuss about it.” She argued, toeing a rock with her shoe and freezing when he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her small frame, relaxing when he pressed his lips to her neck.

“I don’t care one way or the other. I just don’t want to be the one that takes your maidenhead and then have your brother, the King, come after my head for it.” The magic he was working on her neck with his mouth felt amazing and Daenerys reached her arm up to bury her fingers in his hair and keep him from stopping what he was doing.

“He is letting me choose who I marry and when I marry. I asked him for that power when I was fourteen.” Daenerys muffled a moan in her throat as he kissed and nipped at the sensitive skin behind her ear.

He hummed at that, his lips never leaving her throat as one of his hands trailing down her shoulder and finding her covered breast, cupping the round mound as his thumb played with her clothed nipple.

“Jorah...” Her free hand came up and rested over the one on her breast, holding him there.

“What are you doing cousin?” A chipper voice called out as a blonde haired girl bounced into the tent and Jorah broke away from Daenerys, his hands running through his hair nervously.

“Dacey...” He sighed as his young cousin hopped over to them, her eyes pausing on Daenerys curiously.

“She’s quite pretty Jorah. You gonna keep her?” Dacey said mischievously, eyeing Jorah knowingly and making her older cousin sigh in exasperation.

“She’s the Princess Dacey.” Jorah told the young girl who cocked her eyebrow at him and pursed her lips.

“That didn’t stop you from fondling her a few moments ago.” She cackled, always happy whenever she can stun the older man into silence.

“That’s....you...she...ugh. Dacey just stop it.” Jorah crossed his arms across his chest and glowered at the still overjoyed girl before glancing over at Daenerys who started giggling herself as she decided she liked this girl.

“Come on Ser. I’m sure they’re having a celebration in your name. We mustn’t miss it.” Daenerys took his arm and led him out of the tent, but not before Jorah looked at Dacey and ordered her to not leave the camp for any reason.

Sure enough, King’s Landing was celebrating Ser Jorah’s win in the joust, the streets filled with drunken renditions of ‘The Bear and The Maiden Fair’.

Men, women and children took to the streets to enjoy the evening as ale and wine flowed like a river that night. Daenerys was positive that in nine months or so, there would be an increase in the number of babies born that had been conceived tonight.

It seemed everyone wanted to toast to the new champion, stopping Ser Jorah every few steps to drink with him in celebration of his unlikely win and before long, Daenerys found the knight to be tipsy. His laughter ringing louder and more freely as more people toasted to him and ‘his maiden fair’.

Standing next to him when they finally made it through the gauntlet of drinks and drunken men, Daenerys looked at Jorah, meeting his blue eyes affectionately.

Smiling gently at him, Daenerys rested her hand on his chest, her heart pounding.

Daenerys didn’t know what it was about him that made her heart flutter, but she never wanted the feeling to end. She found it odd on how quickly she had become comfortable around him, his arm slung around her shoulder as they made their way to the palace gardens, but she couldn’t be happier as she listened to him talk about the time when he was a young boy on a bear hunt with his father.

Motioning to him to sit, they sat down on a bench in the royal garden, his arm around her shoulder and hers around his waist, her head nestled underneath his jaw.

The raucous cheering of the people of King’s Landing sounded far away as they sat there, the crickets in the garden singing their own songs as the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky a hazy shade of orange and purple.

Jorah had gone silent, lost in the feeling of her in his arms and against his chest.

Daenerys sighed gently, shifting closer to him and pressing her cheek more firmly against him. He smelled of ale and of horses, yet it didn’t turn her stomach or make her want to turn from him.

“I don’t want this moment to ever end.” Daenerys told him quietly, afraid that if she spoke any louder, the moment would be ruined.

“I don’t want it to end either.” Jorah whispered back, turning his head slightly so he could kiss the top of her head.

_Perhaps it doesn’t have to end._

_They could be together like this until the end of their days._

_But..._

_Is that what I want...or what he wants?_

Tilting her head up to look at him, she took in his profile and relished in the wave of comfort and something else that washed over her.

_Is this love?_

_Is this what love feels like?_

_Because if this is what love is like...then I don’t want to lose this feeling._

Throwing around her next question in her head, she gripped his thigh to ground herself as she took the plunge.

“Ask my brother for my hand in marriage.” Daenerys felt him tense up and she pulled her head back to look at him curiously.

He met her violet gaze in shock, momentarily wondering if he had imagined her saying that, but the intense look in her eyes told him otherwise.

“You...want me to marry you?” Jorah’s eyebrows were raised and when she nodded confidently, he let out a breath.

He wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline high from his victory in the tourney or the alcohol in his system...or both, that gave him the courage to agree to do it, but moments later as he found himself stumbling into the King’s study with Daenerys by his side, her giggling in his ear, he wondering if he shouldn’t wait until the morning for this.

“Dany? What’s the meaning of this?” Rhaegar asked, his voice laced with amusement at the sight, his hand dropping to signal to his kingsguard that he didn’t need them to kick out his sister and the drunken lord.

Jorah straightened up then, falling to one knee and bowing his head in respect.

“Your Grace. I come to ask for the Princess’ hand in marriage.” He was trying his hardest to not slur his words, but the amount of alcohol he had consumed earlier made it hard to keep his mind from spinning.

Rhaegar looked at Daenerys curiously, meeting her eyes questioningly. He could clearly see that Lord Mormont was drunk, but he wasn’t sure to what degree his sister had her wits about her.

“And what do you say to this union Dany?” Rhaegar asked her, quite surprised that she would want to jump into a marriage so quickly when she hadn’t shown much interest in men before. It wasn’t that he was complaining if she wanted to marry, many girls her age already had married and had a babe.

“I’m the one who asked him to ask you.” She told him and Rhaegar’s silver eyebrows raised even higher.

“Are you sure it isn’t the alcohol speaking for you right now dear sister?” He wanted to make sure that she wasn’t going to regret this come morning, though he could always break it off should she come to her senses and regret the hasty betrothal.

“I’m sure. I want to marry Jorah. That’s what I want for my eighteenth birthday.” She stated firmly and confidently and perhaps a bit shyly, her hand resting on Jorah’s shoulder.

Rhaegar looked from his sister to the man still on his knees and he couldn’t help but grin at the sheer difference between the two of them.

Where she was short and delicate, her features pale and bright like a true southern girl and a daughter of fire, he was tall, broad, his features sharp and defined, overall a man of the north, a son of the ice.

“Alright. I will bless your marriage Dany.” She jumped up and threw her arms around his neck, planting a wet kiss on her brother’s cheek.

“Thank you Rhaegar!” He laughed as she spun around and went back to Ser Jorah, pulling him up from the ground and laughing when he stumbled before righting himself.

She slipped her hand into his and practically dragged him out of the room, leaving the King to smile fondly at them, happy that his youngest sibling has found her first and hopefully her true love.

Daenerys giggled as she shoved Jorah into her room, shutting the door behind them.

Burying her fingers in his hair, her eyes dropped to his lips as she bit her bottom lip lightly as she debated on her next move.

“May I kiss you Ser?” Daenerys asked sweetly, blinking her big violet eyes at him timidly.

“Of course you may Princess.” Jorah let her make the first move and he watched her stand on her tiptoes so she could brush her lips against his, only then did he deepen the kiss, his arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her to his chest.

Looping her arms around his neck, Daenerys stood on his boots so she didn’t have to tilt her head back as much. She hummed happily as he cocked his head so their kiss felt more natural and she giggled lightly, his bushy beard tickling her face.

He picked her up as if she weighed no more than a feather and carried her over to her bed, laying her down gently.

She had never been loved by a man and while it left her with butterflies in her stomach to have Jorah crawling over her, his strong arms caging her against the bed as he kissed her, Daenerys was a little excited to move past just kissing him.

Grabbing the bottom hem of his tunic, she slipped her hands underneath and touched his hairy chest as she pushed his shirt up. She managed to stop herself from laughing as her hands ran through the hair on his torso and the comparison to a bear returned to her.

“Oh!” They both broke their kiss, Daenerys’ hands pausing in removing his shirt to look over at her shocked handmaiden standing in the doorway.

“I suppose that’s my cue to leave.” Jorah pushed himself up and away from Daenerys, her hands dropping from his chest in disappointment.

“I-I’m sorry Princess, I didn’t know.” Missandei bowed her head embarrassedly and apologetically, watching Ser Jorah bow to Daenerys before leaving the room.

“It’s fine Missandei. You did nothing wrong.” Daenerys said breathily, trying to bring her racing heart back to a normal beat as she licked her lips, savoring the taste of Jorah on her tongue.

Missandei came further into the room, looking sheepish for having interrupted Daenerys and her knight.

“I told you it’s fine Missandei, you didn’t know that Jorah was in here with me. Besides, I have exciting news to tell you!” Grinning widely, she soon had her friend smiling with her. Daenerys swung her legs off the bed and stood up, straightening up her dress before meeting Missandei’s curious eyes.

“Was that your first kiss?” Missandei asked in guess, coming to her Princess’ side and fixing a strand of her hair.

“That’s not what I wanted to tell you. We’re betrothed!” Daenerys met her friend’s shocked gaze with a wide smile.

“You are!? Don’t...don’t you think it’s a little too soon to be getting engaged to him?” Missandei questioned her, worried that her friend was jumping into this a bit too quickly.

Daenerys shook her head, coming over and hugging the girl from Naath tightly.

“You know that many women get betrothed to men they have never met before and are forced into a loveless marriage. I don’t know if I necessarily love Ser Jorah, but he gives me these butterflies in my stomach and I find him quite attractive, so I figure I should snatch him up before he gets married to some other woman.” She told Missandei and could see that her friend understood.

“And believe me, if I didn’t, there was another woman that was flirting him up before the joust and he definitely was showing an interest in her and I can’t risk waiting.” Daenerys didn’t want to show how jealous she had gotten over the other woman’s coy smiles and his affectionate gestures.

“I trust you Princess. If this is what you wish for, then who am I to argue?” Missandei conceded with a bow of her head, wringing her hands nervously.

Daenerys couldn’t miss the way the other girl became withdrawn and unsure, so she grabbed Missandei’s hands firmly.

They met the other’s gaze, concerned violet meeting troubled brown.

“What’s the matter Missandei? What’s bothering you?”

The Naath girl sighed, dropping her eyes down the floor sadly.

“Do you think your Lord husband will let me come with you to your new home, since I assume that you are moving to his home after you wed?” And there lied the crux of the girl’s worry.

Daenerys gripped her hands tighter, making her look up at her.

“He will not have a choice in the matter. Where ever I go, you go and I will not let him separate us.” She told Missandei strongly, leaving no doubt in the girl’s mind.

“Thank you Princess. It means a lot to me.”


	3. A Knight's Vow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I do want to point out there is a teeny tiny rape reference in this chapter, it's not too important but I just wanted to give a small heads up if that bothers you at all. 
> 
> Beyond that, I hope you all enjoy!

“Are you ready for this Dany?” Rhaegar’s voice drifted through her fog of nerves and jitters, making her look over to him wide-eyed.

Breathing out through her nose, Daenerys looked at her reflection in the mirror again, her hair braided elaborately and contrasting with her scared complexion.

_I’m a dragon. I’m not afraid of anything._

With that half-felt thought, Daenerys nodded her head and grabbed his proffered hand.

“I-I think so.” She hated that it was on her wedding day to Ser Jorah Mormont that she finally felt the nerves and anxiety hit her.

“You know, you can always back out if you are having second thoughts.” Her brother offered and she shook her head firmly.

“No. I’m getting married today no matter what.” Daenerys told him strongly, wishing that she felt as confident as she sounded.

Standing in front of her brother, her simple wedding gown pooling on the floor around her feet and her family cloak embroidered with a three headed dragon around her shoulders, Daenerys knew she looked every part the Princess that she was.

It wasn’t that she was having doubts about her marriage to Ser Jorah, even though she had barely seen her husband-to-be since the day of the joust, her nerves came from what came _after_ the wedding.

She had been talking to one of her handmaidens, a young woman named Teysa, about her upcoming wedding and the conversation had eventually come to the bedding ceremony.

Daenerys vaguely knew what occurred behind closed doors between Lords and Ladies, the act that put babes into the women’s belly, though she hadn’t a clue how it truly worked between the man and the woman.

*

“You’ve never had a man have you?” Teysa had asked, wringing water out Daenerys’ hair as she bathed the Princess.

“No...I haven’t. Have you?” Daenerys asked, not necessarily interested per se in Teysa’s love life but more the knowledge about how the act of sex felt.

Teysa was quiet for a long while before she sighed, running more water through Daenerys’ silver locks.

“Yes, I have. If I can be honest with you m’lady, it was horrible.” She admitted and Daenerys tilted her head up to look at her curiously and almost fearfully.

“What do you mean by that?” Daenerys asked, watching as the other woman placed the water basin on the ground.

“It was so painful. He shoved my face into the mattress and then shoved...himself inside of me and gods did it hurt. I kept pleading with him to stop, but he didn’t listen and he just continued thrusting in and out of me until he finally, finally stilled and filled me with his seed before he pulled out and fell asleep next to me.” Teysa shuddered from the memory, her eyes fixed firmly on the ground as she told Daenerys about everything.

“There was blood on the bedding the next morning and I was so sore I could barely get out of bed.” The girl wringed her hands for a moment before looking at the princess apologetically.

“I’m sure that isn’t what you wanted to hear right before your wedding day, but at least you can be somewhat prepared for it when it comes.” Teysa sighed and helped Daenerys out of her bath, wrapping the princess in a cloth to dry off.

“Thank you Teysa...I’m glad you told me.”

*

“Dany? You ready?” Daenerys met Rhaegar’s concerned gaze and nodded.

“Yes, let’s go.” Slipping her arm through his, Daenerys let her eldest brother lead her through the doors to the Great Sept of Baelor.

The people of King’s Landing stood in respect at their entrance, looking on in awe at the Targaryen royals as they glided regally down the aisle to where the nervous Northern Lord was waiting by the septon that was officiating the ceremony.

Daenerys smiled softly to see Ser Jorah look nearly as tense as she was and it made her relax some.

Rhaegar stopped them in front of the knight, squeezing her hand to help give her comfort though Daenerys knew he was having a hard time letting her go.

“I entrust in you the care of my sister. Protect her and love her as best you can.” Rhaegar released Daenerys’ hand and watched as Jorah took hers in his own, running his thumb softly over her knuckles.

“I vow to care for her, love her and protect her with my life.” Jorah replied confidently.

The septon began then, reading off the time honored vows that bound a man and woman together in matrimony.

When the septon told them to exchange cloaks, Daenerys turned her back to Jorah and let him slip her cloak from her shoulders before giving it to an irritated Viserys, who grabbed the cloak more forcibly than necessary from the northerner.

She felt him shift her hair around her shoulder then fastened his bride’s cloak around her shoulders, the heavier woolen cloak engulfing her in a woody, pine scent.

Turning back around, she grabbed his hand in hers and let the septon bind their hands together with the ribbon he held in his hands.

“Let it be known that Daenerys of House Targaryen and Jorah of House Mormont are one flesh, one heart and one soul. In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.”

The sept was silent as the septon untied the ribbon that bound their hands together and placed it on the altar by his side. He returned his attention to the couple.

“Look upon each other and say the words.”

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger.”

“I am her and she is mine.” “I am his and he is mine.”

“From this day until the end of my days.”

Their voices mingled as they spoke the ancient vows together, their fingers intertwined as they stared into each other’s eyes.

After they finished the vows, Jorah held her face in his hands as he brought their lips together in a kiss, smiling against her lips when the entire sept burst into cheers.

Offering his arm to her as they broke apart, he led her out of the sept to where the wedding celebration was taking place, noticing that Dacey was following close behind them.

It wasn’t often that a royal wedding was held, so today was a celebration like none other.

People lined the streets from the Sept all the way to the palace gardens, everyone wanting to catch a glimpse of the newlyweds.

The King had put together a wedding celebration that people would talk about for moons to come as Rhaegar wanted his sister to have a special day that she’d always remember.

There were dancers and musicians, fools and exotic creatures from across the sea. The assortment of food arrangements was plentiful and filled the garden with a tantalizing scent.

Daenerys was seated next to her brother and Jorah, her fingers laced with her husband’s as she tried to get used to the thought of being married.

Lords and common folk alike came forward, bearing gifts that were heartfelt or a ploy to earn favor with the crown.

The Lords came forth with dresses made of expensive fabrics and swords of exquisite craftsmanship while the Ladies presented the Princess with jewels and shiny trinkets.

The common folk gave them more humble gifts, gifts with practicality. Pastries that were baked that morning and wall hangings that depicted beautiful scenes from the land that the Princess would soon be leaving when she moved to the cold, desolate island that her husband is from.

They both thanked everyone gracefully, though Daenerys knew that many of the gifts would have to be left behind when she left for the north.

The whole venue went silent when King Rhaegar stood to address everyone present, his wine goblet raised in a toast.

“To my sister’s health and happiness. I cannot be happier seeing her finally married to a man that she loves and I hope her marriage is blessed with bliss and healthy children.” Everyone raised their goblet to their King’s toast, wishing the same upon their beloved Princess.

“And to Ser Jorah Mormont, the man whom I hope can make my sister the happiest woman alive.” People chuckled slightly and raised their goblets again.

When it came time for the newlyweds to have their first dance, Daenerys was pleasantly surprised to find out that Jorah was graceful on his feet and had a vague sense on how to dance.

Her hands rested on his shoulders as he twirled her around the dancefloor, her gown fluttering around her as she laughed joyously in her husband’s arms.

The buzz she felt from the alcohol and her husband’s love had made her all but forget about her nerves about what was yet to come, so when people started cheering for the bedding ceremony to begin, Daenerys felt all those emotion return to her stronger than before.

Since she was the Princess, Rhaegar forbid the normal tradition of having the lords, ladies and small folk undress his sister and her husband as they made their way to the bed chambers.

Of that much she was grateful for.

***

When the door shut behind her, Daenerys gripped her hands together nervously, realizing that this was going to happen.

Jorah closed the distance between them, grabbing her by her waist and pulling her to him as his lips found hers.

Her hands came up to rest against his shoulders, bracing herself against him as she tried to relax but finding that she couldn’t.

He walked her towards the bed and she half stumbled backwards when the back of her knees hit the mattress.

Jorah towered over her for a moment before he dropped down to his knees and his hands ran up her legs, stopping on her dress covered thighs.

She swallowed when he brought his hands down to slip her shoes off her feet then his wandering fingers found their way up her body to unfasten the cloak he had placed around her shoulders a few hours before.

Breathing deeply to conceal her fear and anxiety from him, her knuckles turned white as her fingers dug into the mattress when his hands went behind her to unlace her dress.

Jorah pulled her up from the bed so she was standing so he could get to the laces better after struggling to undo them, turning her back to him as he lifted the dress from her shoulders and let it pool at her feet, leaving her only in her smallclothes.

Shivers ran down her back as he pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, his hands wandering up and down her sides before he whispered into her ear.

“You okay love?” She turned to look at him then, not having expected the term of endearment from his lips.

“Y-yes. I’m fine.” Daenerys told him, telling herself that she would be fine, that she was strong and would be okay.

Urged on by her positive answer, he removed the last garment that covered her and let it fall to the floor which made her raise her arms up to cover her breasts from him in embarrassment.

He grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him, his hands gripping her wrists gently and meeting her eyes softly.

“Don’t. I want to see you.” Jorah whispered quietly, the look in his deep blue eyes pleading and kind.

Swallowing insecurely, she let a breath out as she let him move her hands from her chest and she watched as he took her bare body in.

“You’re beautiful Daenerys.” His words took her breath away and she found herself blushing hotly, which made him grin and place a kiss on her nose.

She didn’t say anything in return, shifting on her feet as she watched him take his own shirt off, dropping the garment to the floor to join her dress.

It was her turn to look him over, at least his upper half, and she had the urge to run her fingers through his chest hair as she wondered if it was as soft as his hair or coarser like his beard. He was finely muscled, though not grossly so. Lean muscle was covered in hair that drifted teasingly into his pants.

When he started fiddling with his belt buckle and the laces on his breeches, Daenerys felt her heart begin to race.

She had never seen a man naked before and honestly, she didn’t know what to expect.

Jorah kissed her again, pushing her back against the bed with his chest and she stared up at him in fear, unable to mask the emotion on her face.

He paused.

His hands left the laces on his breeches and rested on her cheek, gently brushing away a tear that had escaped.

“Daenerys...what’s wrong?” Jorah asked, worried about her and whether he had done something to elicit this reaction.

“I’m scared.” She whispered so quietly that he barely could hear her, but his expression softened.

Shifting her further up the bed, Jorah laid down next to her as he ran his finger over her cheek.

“What’s scaring you love?” Daenerys looked over at him, her tears stopping after a moment and she debated whether she should tell the truth.

“This...it’s going to hurt isn’t it?” She sounded so broken and small in that moment and it pained his heart.

Pushing himself up onto his elbow, Jorah kissed her lips tenderly, smiling when she returned the gesture.

He pulled her against his chest and ran his hand over her hair calmingly.

“It will hurt for a short while I’m afraid, but then I promise you it will feel good.” Daenerys wasn’t sure whether he spoke the truth or not, but his voice was calming and she felt like she could trust him.

“Also, if you ever want me to stop, just say so and I will.” He told her, his bright blue eyes full of concern and love for her.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded once, letting him know that he could continue.

He kissed her again before laying her back on the bed as he shifted further down the mattress.

Daenerys pushed herself up onto her elbows so she could watch what he was doing, her eyebrows raising up towards her hairline as he settled herself between her thighs.

Jorah met her stunned gaze with a confident smile then licked her lower lips once, his nose pressing against her pearl of nerves as he chuckled at her reaction.

Her head flew back and landed hard on the pillow as she let out a heady moan, unprepared for the jolt of pleasure that flew through her at the dirty gesture.

Daenerys’ hands searched for his soft hair as he started licking her in earnest, his tongue working magic between her thighs.

When he moved back up her body, his mouth leaving a wet trail from her sex to her neck before he kissed her deeply, the taste of herself on his tongue making her moan and she could feel her face burning in embarrassment.

As their tongues played, Daenerys noticed that he was unlacing his breeches and suddenly her nervousness returned, but slightly less strong than it had been before.

“Can you relax for me Daenerys?” Jorah asked, their breaths mingling with each other’s as they panted.

She looked up at him, her anxiousness showing on her face and he sat up on his haunches. Daenerys immediately missed his warmth against her, on top of her.

Jorah stood up off the bed and Daenerys reached out for him, her hand landing on his arm and making him look at her questioningly.

“Where are you going?” She was afraid that he had gotten sick of her nerves, but when he smirked and slipped his breeches off his hips, she swore her heart skipped a beat.

_Oh..._

Her wide eyes landed on his erect manhood before she tore her gaze away and met his amused eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle and we’ll go slow.” He said reassuringly, though Daenerys suddenly understood what Teysa had been talking about when she told her of the time she had sex with a man, the understanding of how it could hurt her somehow made it worse.

Jorah crawled back onto the bed, leaning over her and kissing her deeply, luring her back into something that she enjoyed to try and get her to relax.

And it worked, until she felt something hot and hard brush against her lower lips and her hips bucked away from it.

“It’s fine sweetling, I promise I won’t hurt you.” He whispered into her ear, pressing soft kisses to the sensitive area behind the shell of her ear. “Just relax, it’ll hurt more if you keep tensing up like this.”

Daenerys sighed, wishing it was as easy as he suggested and she tried her hardest to relax, but whenever his manhood brushed against her, she found herself tensing up again in anticipation for the pain.

When it was obvious that she was going to continue this, Jorah sighed and rested his forehead against hers.

“Look at me Daenerys. You’ll be fine, I promise you.” She looked into his beautiful blue eyes and found herself wanting to trust him, so when she felt his manhood against her again, she let out a breath as she felt the head slip inside her, stretching her slightly.

“Wrap your legs around my waist.” Jorah said, his eyes never leaving hers as she did as he suggested, the movement making his cock slip inside her further.

He moved slowly as he said he would, but when she winced as he hit a barrier inside her that sent a twinge of pain through her lower abdomen, he stopped.

“You okay?” He asked and she nodded once the slight pain faded away. “Once I get past your maidenhead and the pain fades, you will only feel pleasure, I swear.”

She shut her eyes and nodded again, letting him know he could continue.

Crying out once as she felt him break through her virginity, she clung to him, her fingernails digging into his back as she rode out the pain, grateful that he hadn’t started moving.

Letting a deep breath out through her nose, Daenerys opened her eyes and met his worried gaze, kissing him for a moment before rolling her hips to test the feeling of him fully sheathed inside of her.

Her head fell back as a shock of pain and pleasure shot through her at the movement and she met his eyes again, this time more determined.

“You okay?” He asked again, this time she nodded more confidently.

Jorah kissed her nose then carefully thrust his hips against hers, not wanting to move to fast too soon and risk hurting her. It did hurt for a bit, but after a while the pain faded completely and she started meeting his gentle thrusts with ones of her own.

Once he caught on that she was ready to speed things up, he buried her face against her neck and started thrusting in earnest, still holding himself back so he didn’t cause her any pain, jostling moans from her.

It was completely unlike what she had expected, her hands running over his back and trying to pull him closer to her.

“Oh gods Jorah!” Daenerys about screamed when he shifted her leg further up his body and hit a sweet spot inside her. She could feel him grin against her neck, pleased with her reaction so much that he repeated the motion and received much of the same return.

“Do you want me to stop?” Jorah asked breathily, leaning back to meet her eyes, his hips still grinding against hers as he met her stunned expression.

“No, don’t you dare.” Daenerys would not have that, she was becoming addicted to the feelings he was eliciting from her body.

Jorah chuckled, his expression showing how pleased he was to know that the hesitant girl that he had come to bed with was now enjoying the act that had her so nervous before.

“As you command Princess.” She groaned at his response as her head fell back onto the feather pillows and she continued to run her hands over his slick back.

It was like he lit a small fire inside her, heat building up down in her private locations as he slid in and out of her, giving and taking in equal measures. Thighs quivering as the small embers slowly turned into a raging inferno, Daenerys tightened her legs around his waist and held onto his shoulders, noticing that his breaths where coming in short, quick pants against her neck.

“J-Jorah...please...” She wasn’t sure what she was asking him for, but it was enough to spur him on, his movements suddenly going faster, deeper, harder as her inner walls tensed around him.

She cried out as she hit her peak, her hips bucking when she felt a rush of warmth inside her as Jorah groaned into her neck and stilled.

Breathing heavily, Daenerys trailed her hand from his back up to his hair, her fingers threading through his blonde hair and holding him against her. She could feel him going soft inside her before her pushed himself up and rolled to the side.

Reaching his hand out, Jorah brushed her cheek that gleamed with her afterglow with a soft smile.

“So, what’s the verdict? Did you enjoy that?” He asked softly, his blue eyes sparkling with adoration.

Daenerys could feel the grin on her face, her eyes crinkling from the wide smile.

“I did. Will...we be able to do that again?” She questioned innocently, rolling over so her head rested on his chest.

Jorah laughed, his arm coming up to wrap around her shoulders and hold her to him.

“Whenever you want my love. Whenever you want.”


	4. A Lord's Compassion

Daenerys sat on her bed, mulling over whether she really needed to bring all of her dresses to her new home on Bear Island, her eyes flicking up to the other girl that was going through her own belongings almost nervously.

“You okay Missandei?” The girl looked up at her and nodded, placing the dress in her hand into the carrying trunk.

“I am Princess.” Daenerys knew her well enough to know when she was omitting the truth, so she stood up and went over to her.

“You are worried that Jorah won’t let you come with me.” She picked up on the way the other girl flinched and Daenerys knew that she had gotten it correct.

“Missandei, I’ve told you already, he doesn’t have a choice in the matter.” The words made her smile and nod once before she returned to packing her belongings up.

Daenerys returned to picking through her dresses, deciding which ones she wanted to bring and which ones she would leave behind.

A knock on the door had both girls looking up as Jorah entered, giving his wife a gentle smile.

“Are you about ready?” He asked her, coming further into the room and glancing over at Missandei, who had her head bowed nervously.

“Almost, I’m just figuring out which dresses to bring.” Daenerys watched him run his hand over the silky fabric thoughtfully for a moment before his hand threaded through his beard.

“I’ll have to get you some warmer clothes if this is all you have. Otherwise you will freeze up north.” Jorah told her in jest and Daenerys eyed her light dresses curiously, suddenly wondering if it was worth bringing any of them then.

He noticed her furrowed expression and kissed her cheek lightly.

“Go ahead and bring a few of them, it’s not always freezing cold so you can still wear them. You’ll just be needing a few warmer items and a fur cloak.” Jorah told her and she nodded, figuring that the ones she had already packed would suffice then.

“Okay. I guess I have everything I need then.” Daenerys shut her wooden trunk, latching it shut and looking over at Missandei, which prompted Jorah to look at her.

“Are you ready my lady?” Missandei’s head snapped up when he addressed her, meeting his curious blue eyes.

“Y-yes my Lord.” She shut her own trunk, smaller than the princess’ but appreciated nonetheless.

Jorah stared at her for a moment before smiling softly.

“Jorah. Just call me Jorah.” It was Missandei’s turn to stare at him in surprise then gracing him with a gentle smile of her own.

“If it pleases my Lord, then I shall call you Jorah.” She acquiesced with a bow of her head.

He called in a couple of the Bear Islanders that he brought with him to pick up the trunks and take them back to the ship that would take them home.

A large, heavy built man with a full beard and head of dark hair and a small, blonde girl with a bounce in her step entered the room and Jorah sighed deeply.

“Dacey, did I not tell you to stay in the ship?” He eyed his young cousin in disapproval and she just shrugged at him.

“You did.” Dacey smiled at him sweetly then met both Daenerys and Missandei’s eyes brightly.

“Then why are you here?” Jorah cocked his hip and crossed his arms at her, frowning at the way she ignored him.

“Are you both coming back to Bear Island with us?” The young girl asked, coming over to Missandei and looking up at her curiously.

“Yes, we are. This is my handmaiden and friend, Missandei.” Daenerys introduced her and noticed the strange look the other girl got.

“Handmaiden?” Dacey asked questioningly, confusing Daenerys a bit.

“She helps Daenerys get her clothes and hair ready in the morning and ready her for bed in the evening.” Jorah explained to his cousin, finally getting her full attention.

“Why does she need help? I do all of that on my own.” Dacey scoffed at the idea of needing help to ready herself.

Jorah sighed and placed a hand on his cousin’s shoulder, meeting her eyes kindly.

“Many ladies in Westeros have handmaidens, it’s a common thing on the mainland Dacey.” Jorah told her, still getting a skeptical look from the young girl.

“Then why don’t we have them on Bear Island?”

“It’s because we are a small house Dacey.” The girl grinned at that, placing her hands on her hips fiercely.

“We may be a small house, but we are a proud one.” Dacey shot back with a smile, earning a hardy chuckle from her older cousin.

“Aye, Here we stand little cousin.” Jorah replied, gripping her shoulder and smiling at her.

“Here we stand.” Dacey repeated, then followed the other Bear Islander out of the room, chasing after the dark haired man to pester him.

Jorah sighed and looked to the ladies wearily and amusedly.

“You ready to go then?” He asked, making his way over to the remaining chest and lifting it up to settle it on his shoulder.

“Yes, I think I am.” Daenerys said, looping her arm through Missandei’s as they followed her husband down to the docks.

Daenerys smiled at her brother as she stopped in front of him. King Rhaegar was waiting at the docks to say farewell to his little sister, his kingsguard by his side.

“Your Grace.” Jorah knelt to his king, rising when the man waved him to stand.

Rhaegar walked over to the Bear Islander, gripping his arm firmly in a handshake and smiling widely at him.

“Take care of her Lord Mormont.” Rhaegar said, both kindly and threateningly, hoping he wasn’t making a mistake in letting Daenerys leave with the northern lord.

“I will Your Grace. I swear it on my knightly honor.” Jorah replied and Rhaegar felt that he meant every word.

“Good. I’m glad.” Rhaegar then turned to his sister, pulling her into an embrace.

“Stay happy little sister. If there is ever a time that you want to return, just let me know.” He whispered into her ear and she pulled back to look at him.

“I will, stay happy I mean.” Daenerys smiled, her eyes drifting over to her husband who was talking to one of the other Northern men.

“I still can’t believe you are married and are leaving us.” Rhaegar chuckled sadly, running his hand through her hair with a soft smile.

Daenerys laughed, pushing his chest lightly and stepping away from him.

“Oh come now Rhaegar. I can’t stay a child forever.”

“But does he make you happy Dany?” He asked quietly, his own violet eyes flicking over to the man that was taking her away from the palace.

“Yes, he does Rhaegar. He’s very kind and...” She started saying but he cut her off with a pointed look.

“No, does he make you _happy_?” He reiterated, emphasizing the last word and putting a whole new meaning to his question.

“Oh, yes he does. Very much so.” Daenerys giggled sweetly, her eyes returning to the man that she had worn out in bed many nights since their wedding.

Rhaegar laughed, patting her on the head and letting her be.

With a promise that she would return occasionally and write to them as often as she could, Daenerys boarded the ship with Missandei by her side.

When they set sail, Daenerys waved to her family and watched as Rhaegar, Viserys and Septa Yoana disappeared behind the cliff side.

It would be a fortnight before they arrived at Bear Island.

*

“So, what do you think Princess?” Jorah asked, his voice teasing as he watched the way Daenerys and Missandei huddle together to stay warm.

Her eyes ran over Mormont Keep, the small log building that stood proudly between trees and rocks, but what really drew her attention was the carving on the front of the keep.

There she stood, head held high and looking as fierce as the strongest of men, a battleax gripped in one hand and a babe at her breast in the other.

“It’s quite beautiful here, but damn it’s cold.” Daenerys laughed at his surprised expression as she came to stand next to him. “I like her, who is she?” She asked, motioning to the carving.

“I’m not sure honestly, I don’t even know if she was ever a real person or not, but she shows everyone who sees her the Mormont way.” Jorah said and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, his eyes drifting over to Missandei who was now shivering in earnest.

Unfastening his fur cloak, Jorah left Daenerys’ side to lay it over the other girl’s shoulders, smiling kindly at her surprised gaze.

“Y-you don’t need to...” Missandei argued yet she wrapped the warm cloak further around her, his heat seeping into the cold that had settled over her.

“Sure I do. It wouldn’t be the lordly or knightly thing to sit back and watch a lady freeze. You both have yet to become accustomed to the cooler temperatures here on Bear Island.” Jorah returned to his wife’s side and brought her against him again, keeping her warm with his own body heat.

“Thank you my Lord.” Missandei spoke softly, earning a cocked eyebrow from him and a lightly disapproving frown.

“Thank you Jorah.” She tried again with a gentle laugh when he nodded in approval and led them up to the keep.

Pushing the door open, Jorah let Missandei and Daenerys head in first before following them in and closing the door behind them.

Daenerys’ first thought was how cozy the keep was, the bitter cold winds didn’t bite at her cheeks and there was a grand fire burning in the hall, warming the building the best it could.

As she looked around, her eyes landed on the Mormont banners with a smile, the black bear rampant on a field of green. They were her banners now too she supposed, but in her heart she would always remain a dragon.

“Dacey told me that you have remarried?” An older yet fierce voice broke through the silence that had befallen over them and Daenerys looked up to see a woman with dark hair making her way over to them, her eyes fixed solely on Jorah.

“Aye, I have.” Jorah told the heavily pregnant woman nonchalantly, his hand coming to rest on Daenerys’ shoulder.

The woman eyed her then, frowning in what seemed like disapproval at what she saw.

“You’ve gone and married some proper southern lady? What were you thinking?”

Daenerys frowned herself, crossing her arms over her chest in annoyance.

“I’m not looking for your approval Maege. I don’t complain when you keep ending up pregnant and still refuse to marry, so you have no right to judge my choice.” Jorah snapped back, his voice betraying his irritation with his aunt.

“She’s not going to like it here Jorah. Those southern ladies are used to extravagance and we don’t have that here.” Maege growled at him, her sharp eyes meeting Daenerys’ and Missandei’s before finding her nephew’s.

“I will like it here just fine.” Daenerys spoke up then, standing by Jorah’s side and resting her hand on his arm.

Maege cocked her eyebrow at her, looking her up and down skeptically.

“See if you’re still saying that in a fortnight girl, then we will see who was right.”

Jorah’s blunt and non-proper ways of speaking to her had drawn Daenerys to him, but the same coming from this woman was driving her mad.

“While it is a pleasure meeting my new family, I will not tolerate this disrespect from anyone. My name is Daenerys of House Targaryen, crowned Princess of the Seven Kingdoms and the wife of the Lord of Bear Island.”

The expression on the older Mormont’s face changed to shock and surprise, her eyes shooting over to her nephew to see if she spoke the truth.

She then started laughing, shaking her head almost remorsefully and met Jorah’s gaze, looking at him like he was the biggest idiot she had ever met.

“How in the seven hells did you manage this Jorah? The princess? What made you think that the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms would be able to live on Bear Island?” Maege spoke slowly and spitefully to Jorah.

“No, wait...that’s the thing. You didn’t think this through did you? You somehow caught the attention of the Princess and let your cock think the rest through.” She laughed reproachfully, though Jorah quickly shut her up when he snapped.

“You may be my aunt but I am still your Lord and I will not have this sort of blatant disrespect to myself or my wife, who is the Princess and your Lady. I will forgive it this once, but I will not hear of this again.” Jorah growled angrily, the older woman backing down with a nod of her head before she left the room entirely without another word.

Jorah sighed and ran his hand through his hair, turning to the two women by his side.

“My apologies, she normally isn’t like this.” Daenerys shook her head, waving the unnecessary apology away.

“We’ll just prove to her, and everyone on this island, that we can survive here and make it our home.” She smiled at him, taking his hands in hers with a fierce sense of determination to prove Maege wrong.


	5. A Teacher's Lesson

Dacey and young Alysane led Daenerys around everywhere, showing her all the rooms in the keep in their self-proclaimed tour.

“And this...” Dacey shoved open the heavy door to reveal a room that was full of bookcases and books to fill them. “Is the library! If you ever lose cousin Jorah, then he’s either in here or in the training yard. I’ll have to show you that later.” The young girl beamed happily, proud to be the one showing her new good cousin their home while Jorah was busy checking over whatever lordly duties he needed to deal with since his arrival.

“Jorah enjoys reading?” Daenerys asked, almost surprised at the knowledge but endeared her more to her husband for it. Most of the knights she knew back at her brother’s court dismissed books as something for the weaker people, not up to snuff for their muscle bound brains.

“Oh yes, reading or training or boring coin counting. Oh! Or fishing! I like fishing too though!” The young Mormont continued talking her ear off, the novelty of having someone new to talk to was too enticing for the girl to ignore.

“I’ve never gone fishing before. Perhaps you could show me how to someday?” Missandei said kindly, a smile on her face as she felt like she was welcomed into the hall of northerners.

“Oh yes! And then maybe we could go with Jorah on a bear hunt! I haven’t been on one yet, but I’m getting old enough to go on my first one soon!” Dacey added enthusiastically, leading them to yet another room and introducing it as their ‘hide room’.

“Do you hide in here often then?” Daenerys asked with laughter in her voice, the smile on her face dropping when the girl opened the door to reveal a grisly scene.

Blood covered most of the floor and the wall, a large skinned _something _laid on in the middle of the floor and the overwhelming smell of coppery blood and death hit her nostrils suddenly, her hands coming up to cover her nose and mouth to ward off the horrible stench.

Dacey just laughed, shutting the door and hiding what almost looked a murder scene from the two newcomers.

“No, we skin whatever we catch and create hides and furs from them.” Dacey said with a smile, the sight of dead animals and the bloody mess that it created was normal for the girl, even the young Alysane didn’t seem bothered by the scene.

“Perhaps we could see something a little less...gross?” Daenerys suggested as kindly as she could and Dacey shrugged indifferently.

“Fine. I can show you the training yard then.” Leading Daenerys and Missandei outside, neither of the younger girls putting on a warmer cloak as they exited the keep, the non-natives pulled their own cloaks tighter around them as the bitter chill of the wind hit them.

“I can’t wait for the river to thaw. Then we’d be able to show you how a true Bear Islander fishes.” Dacey grinned at them, holding Alysane’s hand in her own as she led them down the path to where they could hear the clash of swords.

Stepping into the clearing that they had dubbed the ‘Training yard’, Daenerys’ eyes were drawn to her husband as he sparred with another man, both of them shirtless and panting heavily as they thrust and parried blow for blow.

Her eyes drifted over his broad, muscled chest and over his straining biceps as he deflected a hit from the other man’s blunted weapon.

“You see! I told you that Jorah is always in the library or the training yard!” Dacey’s laugh caught the attention of the two sparring and she laughed harder when the other man’s sword landed heavily across Jorah’s back, making him stumble forward and shoot the man a glare.

“Fuck you Darin.” Jorah snapped at the cackling man, parrying another half-hearted blow before ramming full bodily into the dark haired man, knocking him off his feet and onto his back.

Daenerys watched on in shock as the two men wrestled shirtless on the frosted dirt, Jorah eventually coming out on top as he smirked down at the man he was straddling and pinning his hands to the ground.

“Well if we are going to do this then, _my Lord, _make sure you at least use oil.” The Bear Islander named Darin cocked an eyebrow at his friend and Lord, laughing at the way Jorah sputtered embarrassedly and clambered off him indignantly.

Helping the other man to his feet, Jorah turned away from him to pull his shirt on with a grumble.

“Is this your new lady wife Jorah?” Darin asked curiously, his eyes travelling to Daenerys and looking her over skeptically.

Jorah came over to stand by her side, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

“Aye, she is. Daenerys, this is my childhood friend Darin. Darin, this is Princess Daenerys Targaryen.” Jorah missed the look his wife shot at him at her introduction.

“Am I not Daenerys Mormont?” She frowned at him, stepping out of his hold for a moment to stare him down. Jorah blinked at her, his eyebrows raising.

“I...figured that since you are more highborn than I am...that you would prefer to keep your family name.” Jorah told her and she pursed her lips annoyed.

“Jorah. I care not for that. I am your lady wife and that is what matters to me.” Daenerys said firmly, walking back into his embrace and resting her head on his chest.

Jorah chuckled at his feisty wife, kissing the top of her head tenderly before shooting Darin a glare when the man snorted at the scene.

“Will you teach me?” Daenerys asked out of the blue, pushing away from Jorah to look him in the eyes curiously.

“Teach you what?” He cocked an eyebrow at her in confusion and she rolled her eyes as she pointed to the rack of training weapons.

“How to wield a sword.” She said like it should have been obvious to him what she had been talking about.

The breath left Jorah in a surprised huff and he shifted on his feet, his eyes drifting over to Missandei who looked amused and a bit worried.

“You want to learn to swordfight?” Jorah reiterated to make sure that he was understanding her correctly.

“Yes Jorah. I wouldn’t have asked otherwise. I’ve seen women here with weapons and I want to learn too.” Daenerys told him determinedly, her expression showing that she wasn’t going to back down until he agreed.

“I have to say, I’m rather surprised that you do. Everywhere else in Westeros, women don’t learn to fight as it’s unladylike.” Her eyebrows narrowed at his chuckle and she shoved his shoulder harshly.

“I want to learn how to though. I didn’t think that you of all people would be against me learning.” Daenerys grumbled and turned away from him, only looking at him when he brushed his calloused fingers against her cheek.

“I’m not against you learning love, I’m just surprised...that’s all. We’ll start tomorrow morning.” Jorah finally agreed and she wrapped her arms around him excitedly.

She couldn’t wait to surprise Rhaegar with her newly learned skills.

*

“Don’t grip the hilt so hard.”

“Don’t swing the sword so far out.”

“You’re hitting too hard.”

“Hit harder.”

Groaning as Jorah raised his hand to halt her, Daenerys froze in her position and waited for him to reprimand her for messing up...again.

He came to stand behind her, shifting his foot between hers and widen her stance out.

“Standing like this will make it harder for your opponent to knock you over, gives you more stability.” Holding onto her hips, Jorah spoke into her ear and his warm breath made her shiver.

Nearly whimpering when he moved away from her, Daenerys watched him walk so that he was in front of her.

“Alright. Again.” He said and she fell back into position, bringing the short sword up and keeping her stance wide like he showed her.

Her eyes ran over his defensive stance, looking for an opening that she could hit. Smirking when she saw that his left side was unguarded, Daenerys moved forward and swung, not expecting for him to parry her attack seamlessly as if he saw it coming.

“How...?” Jorah laughed at her surprise, tapping her lightly on the nose with his finger.

“You smiled before you struck and your eyes dropped to my left. You shouldn’t be so obvious on where you are aiming Daenerys.” She huffed, crinkling her nose before falling back into position.

Daenerys was determined to figure out how the art of sword play, so for weeks, she trained with Jorah, learning all the ins and outs of the blade.

The first time she managed to catch his side with the blunted blade about six weeks into her training, Daenerys let out a squeal of excitement that he quickly turned on her, pushing her to the ground and straddling her hips, her blade landing a few paces to her right.

“Good job on hitting me love, but next time, don’t celebrate too early.” Pressing a kiss to her lips that she eagerly returned, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she deepened it.

Letting her head fall to the ground so she looked up at him with a content smile, Daenerys let him pull her to her feet.

She picked up her sword and shifted her feet into a position that had become almost second nature to her by now, but the sound of someone joining them made her drop her blade down to her side as she looked over to see who was approaching.

“So this is where you’ve been.” Maege grunted as she came down the path and looked at her nephew then to Daenerys. Her eyes drifted over the protective padding that Daenerys was wearing then to the sword in her hand curiously.

“Do you need something Aunt?” Jorah questioned, resting his weight against his sword, the tip planted in the hard dirt.

“No. I’ve just been wondering where you two disappear off to at this time of the day. Can’t say I suspected this though.” She pressed the heel of her palm into her pregnant belly, a pained grimace on her face that faded after a moment.

“You should be resting.” Jorah told his aunt, having noticed the pain shoot through her face.

Maege snorted, giving her nephew a hard look that softened immediately at the worried expression on his face. Sighing, she turned to make her way back to the keep, tilting her head over her shoulder to look at the both of them.

“I’ll be fine Jorah. Be gentle with your wife. Those southern ladies are fragile.” Daenerys’ anger flared up at the Maege’s words, but dampened at the teasing smile on the older woman’s lips.

“It’s okay. I won’t hurt your nephew too badly Maege.” Daenerys shot back, earning a hearty laugh from her as she started making her way back to the long hall.

With that, they returned to sparring and Daenerys was proud when she realized that Jorah hadn’t stopped her once that day to correct her posture or movements. She knew she still had a way to go before she was at a skill level that Jorah deemed acceptable to take her on a bear hunt, but she swore that she would be ready when one came.


	6. A Mother's Care

Eyes fluttering open, Daenerys glanced to the other side of the bed, not surprised to find it empty.

Jorah typically woke much earlier than she did and almost never woke her up when he left the bed.

Pushing herself upright, she slid out from beneath the warm furs, her feet landing on the bearskin rug that covered the floor, her toes running through the dark fur.

Standing, she felt her stomach lurch suddenly and she clenched her jaw to try and stop the nausea that threatened her.

She lost the fight and soon found herself retching into the clean bedpan.

It was strange. She had never been ill before so this was an anomaly to her.

Missandei came in shortly afterwards, worry for her crossing over her face as she took in the scene Daenerys made.

“Are you alright Dany?” The girl came over to her side and brushed her silver hair over her shoulder.

Daenerys nodded slowly before accepting Missandei’s hand to help her up from the floor.

“It’s odd. I’ve never thrown up like that before...maybe I ate something last night that didn’t settle right on my stomach.” As suddenly as the nausea had washed over her, it was gone.

Missandei looked her over for a long while, her hands coming to rest on Daenerys’ hips then up to her breasts before she stepped back with a smile.

“No, I don’t think it was anything you ate Princess.” Missandei declared and Daenerys raised an eyebrow at her curiously, the smile on her friend’s face confusing her.

“Then...what?” Bringing her own hands up to touch her breasts like Missandei did, Daenerys tried to figure out what the other girl had deduced that she hadn’t been able to.

“I...believe you may be pregnant Dany.” With that statement, Daenerys’ hands flew to her belly as if to judge the truth behind the words.

“I’ve seen a number of women undergo the changes that come with pregnancy, such as the increase in breast size.” Her friend explained and smiled widely as she met Daenerys’ shocked expression.

“I-I’m...” Daenerys let out a soft laugh, the idea that she had a baby growing inside of her was odd, yet somehow exhilarating.

“You will probably want to double check with the Maester because I could be wrong...but when was the last time you’ve bled?” Missandei questioned and Daenerys thought about it, trying to remember the last time she had her moonsblood.

“Two months ago I think.” Daenerys smiled as the revelation hit her and she hoped that Jorah was going to be excited about the news.

*****

Jorah went pale as her words hit him and Daenerys was worried that he was going to pass out on her.

“Y-You’re...” He repeated breathily and she grabbed his hands in hers, suddenly afraid that he wasn’t happy at the news at all.

“Pregnant. With our child.” Jorah visibly deflated at that causing Daenerys to pull her hands from his and cover her stomach, worry clearly written across her face. She would have thought that he would have been ecstatic knowing that he had an heir on the way, but he seemed anything but.

“I-I’m sorry...I thought that...” He looked up at her then, meeting her teary eyes. “...that you’d be happy.” Shutting her eyes tightly as she urged the tears down, she hiccupped softly into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest.

“My love. Daenerys.” Kissing her forehead then her cheeks, he tilted her head up and she opened her eyes to meet his. “I am happy, do not think that I’m not excited to be a father. It’s just...” Jorah’s expression fell and he rested his forehead against hers.

“I lost my first wife in the birthing bed after she bled away our third babe. I can’t...” He swallowed tightly and she wrapped her arms around his waist, stunned at what he was telling her.

“I can’t lose you the same way my love.” Jorah finished with a shaky sigh, tilting his head back when she pushed him back so he sat on the bed and she in his lap.

“Jorah, you won’t lose me. I’m a dragon and our babe is a bear and a dragon.” She reassured him as much as she could, though she knew that it was never a guarantee that a woman would survive childbirth.

Jorah chuckled quietly, pressing a kiss to her lips before holding her to his chest.

They sat in silence for a long while.

Daenerys listened to his heartbeat under her cheek, the sound calming her as he ran his hands over her back.

*

_Four Months Later..._

She should have known from that conversation she had four months ago with Jorah, the night she told him that she was pregnant, that he would become an over-protective pain in the ass that followed her around everywhere to ensure she didn’t overwork herself.

“Jorah! I’m fine. I perfectly capable enough to put on my shoes on my own. Besides, I have Missandei to help me if I need help. Stop hovering around me!” The look that crossed over his face made her regret being so harsh on him, knowing he was just worried about her and wanted to help ease her discomfort any way he could.

“I know...I apologize.” Daenerys watched him leave their chambers, looking much like a kicked puppy.

Knowing that she would have to apologize to him later and let him know that she really did appreciate his caring behavior, Daenerys slipped her shoes on and left their quarters, her hand resting on her extended belly.

Joining Maege and her daughters in the dining area to break their fast, Daenerys searched the room for her husband, frowning when she didn’t see him anywhere.

She sat across the table from Jorah’s aunt, grinning at the babbling five month old Lyra Mormont before she met Maege’s gaze.

“Where is Jorah?” Daenerys questioned, hoping that her dismissal of his help hadn’t hurt him more than he had let on.

“Down at the docks. There was some trouble that he had to get cleared up or something. He’ll be back before midday I presume.” Maege told her, moving the young girl in her arms so she could suckle on her breast.

Bear Island, as Daenerys was still finding out, was unlike King’s Landing in so many ways. The women here were treated as equals to the men and were more openly bawdy than the prissy ladies Daenerys has grown up around.

It was freeing in a way, being able to simply be herself and not worry about courtly pleasantries and appearances.

One of the things she enjoyed the most, she thinks, is not having to squeeze herself into a corset, instead wearing pants and tunics that women in King’s Landing would have scoffed at, but were oh so comfortable.

The longer she had lived on Bear Island with her husband, the less elaborate she did her hair, many days leaving down naturally or pulling it back into a simple ponytail.

Dacey and Alysane sat at the other end of the table, giggling over something one of them had said. Missandei sat at her side, looking at her with a content smile on her face.

It felt like home.

True to her prediction, Jorah returned to the keep by midday, his clothes drying and covered in salty water.

Maege and the other girls were eager to hear about what had been going on from the Lord of Bear Island and circled around him.

He waved them off, saying it truly wasn’t anything too problematic.

“One of the fisherman’s boats capsized and they lost all their catch for the day. So if we want fish for supper tonight, we’ll have to go out and catch our own.” Jorah told them, chuckling at Dacey’s excited demeanor.

“You’ll take me with you Jorah? I can catch a mean fish.” She growled like a bear, clawing at the air before bursting into laughter.

“Aye, you can come Dacey.” Jorah huffed in amusement, then turned his attention to his wife, his expression going soft.

“I’ll come too.” Daenerys told him, leaving him little room for argument in her tone. Missandei also mentioned that she would like to come along, but Jorah paid little attention to her, worried about his pregnant wife as he was.

“Daenerys...” He started and she cut him off with a sharp look.

“Jorah. It wasn’t a request. I am coming with you and that is final. I am pregnant, not ill.” She crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow at him that reminded him that she was still the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms.

He sighed, nodding in defeat.

“Fine. You can come. But...” He said, not backing down at the intense look she put on at his words.

“You will be wrapped up so you cannot catch cold and you shall be careful.” Placing a hand on her cheek, Jorah let her know that he was just worried for her and she nodded in agreement.

“Deal.”

With that, she got her cloak and gloves, putting them on before meeting the rest of the Mormonts and Missandei at the front entrance of the keep.

Together, they made their way down to a river, Jorah holding Daenerys’ hand the whole way to make sure she got over the rocky areas without slipping and falling.

Once they got down to the river though, Daenerys found herself staring on in shock as they all started stripping, all of their shirts being carefully laid over tree branches and boots left next to the tree trunks. She glanced over at Missandei and laughed at her surprised expression as all of the Mormonts, man and woman alike, stripped down to their small clothes and entered the surely freezing water willingly.

Daenerys and Missandei watched on in fascination as they all bent over the water, their eyes focused on the rippling of the river as if they were statues.

Then suddenly, Dacey shot her hands out under the water, a fish coming out when they came back up to toss it onto the riverbank where Alysane was waiting to grab the floundering fish and kill it.

“Ha! I got the first one!” Dacey squealed out excitedly, smiling widely at Daenerys and Missandei in pride.

Jorah caught the next two, grinning smugly at his young cousin as she pouted, the last fish she had almost caught slipped between her fingers.

After watching them for a while, Daenerys started stripping her clothes off, making sure that Jorah wasn’t paying attention to what she was doing and stop her. Missandei chuckled softly, following her Princess’ lead and removing her clothing and laying it over a low tree branch.

“Oh gods!” Daenerys shivered as she stepped into the ice cold water, her outburst causing Jorah to look up at her, his eyes going wide when he saw his wife practically naked and walking into the river.

“Daenerys! What are you doing?” Trudging through the water to her side, he held a hand on her shoulder and looking at her chastising.

“I want to help. Teach me?” Grabbing his forearm, she fluttered her eyelashes at him flirtatiously and almost pleadingly.

“You shouldn’t be...” He started, but Maege cut in and put an end to her nephew’s argument.

“I was fishing at nine months pregnant Jorah. If I was fine, then I’m sure Daenerys will be too. She’s tougher than you think boy.” Jorah glared at his aunt, having hoped that when she started talking that she would have backed him.

Sighing, Jorah led Daenerys carefully further into the river, stopping her at a depth that the current wouldn’t risk knocking her over.

“You have to be extremely still or else the fish won’t come.” Jorah told her quietly, as if speaking too loudly would scare the fish away.

So, Daenerys stood completely still, bent as much as she comfortably could over the water, her head snapping over to Jorah when a fish swam by her leg.

Without stopping to think, she shot her hands out to try and grab the fish, but her hands returned with nothing.

Eyebrows furrowing, she looked to Jorah in question.

“You see, you tried to grab the fish where you saw it. By the time your arms had reached out, the fish was already over there. Think ahead into the future. The fish may be right there right now, but in a few moments...where will it be? _That’s_ where you aim.” Jorah informed her and she nodded, determined to catch the next one.

Standing still, Daenerys waited for another fish to come by. Bending over combined with the icy water had her legs cramping intensely, but she was dead set on getting at least one fish.

A glint of silver in the water made her heart jump.

_This is it!_

Reaching out ahead of the fish like Jorah told her, Daenerys felt her hands wrap around the creature and she jerked it out the water, but the fish squirmed around much stronger than she would have expected and it startled her.

So much so that she lost her footing as she held onto the fish for dear life and she found herself falling into the river, water rushing over her head before she was pulled up by strong arms.

“Daenerys! Are you alright?” Jorah picked her up in his arms, carrying her out of the river as she started laughing, earning a confused look from her husband.

“Oh gods!” She looked down to the fish that she still miraculously held in her hands as it started flapping around in a panic.

“Daenerys?” Jorah put her down on a fallen log, finally seeing the death grip she had on the fish and he chuckled, grabbing it from her and putting it out of its misery.

“I caught one!” Daenerys said proudly, reaching her hands out to cup his cheeks and pull his face to hers.

Maege and Dacey came out of the river to check on Daenerys, smiling in pride as Daenerys showed them the fish that she had managed to snatch.

“You’ll be a Bear Islander yet little dragon.” Maege snorted and Daenerys grinned, knowing that she had been completely accepted into Jorah’s family.

Missandei helped Daenerys put on her clothes again, the Princess shivering as the cold air sucked any warmth she had away.

Once she was clothed, Jorah took over her care, wrapping her in his bear fur lined cloak and carrying her back to the log long hall, grateful that she didn’t argue against it.

For supper that night, Daenerys ate the fish she caught proudly, sharing half of it with Jorah and beaming under his and his kin’s praise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got the next three chapters written, but since I've recently started school up again, I've had very little time to write. I'm hoping to keep a steady update pace, but I may not be able to post as often as I did over the summer.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy!


	7. The Bear's Protection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a few people express concern for Daenerys and the baby, but I just wanted to say that I'm aiming to keep this story at least relatively fluffy, so I'm not going to let any real harm come to anyone important in this story :)
> 
> I really am happy that you all are enjoying this story so far, I've been trying to stay a few chapters ahead of where I'm posting them so if/when I start really losing my free time to my school work, I at least have some sort of buffer to give me some time to recover.

“You are not coming Daenerys.”

“Yes. I am Jorah.”

“No. It’s out of the question.”

“I don’t care Jorah. I’m coming with you whether you want me to or not.”

“I said no. It’s too dangerous Daenerys and you are seven months pregnant.”

“If you leave me behind when you leave, I’ll just follow you out anyways. So you might as well let me come with you.”

Jorah sighed, covering his face in his hands as he tried to calm his anger at her stubbornness.

Daenerys closed the distance between them and rested her hand on his bicep, urging him to look at her.

“Jorah, I’ll be fine. I want to be out there with you. Besides, I’m sure Dacey would protect me from any bear that gets too close.” Daenerys said lightly, the young girl nodding her head in agreement.

Jorah looked between his cousin and his wife before his gaze went to his amused aunt and he knew that he was outnumbered in this argument, only Missandei agreed with him.

When he sighed, Daenerys knew that she had won and she wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck, kissing him soundly.

“I promise I will be careful and listen to whatever you say.” Daenerys told him in an attempt to console him.

About an hour later, Daenerys found herself wrapped in protective gear that helped to keep her warm and would hopefully save from a bear should one get too close, though she had some major doubts at its effectiveness.

She was sitting on the bed in their chambers watching as Jorah strapped his sword onto his hips, the pommel a snarling bear and the blade Valyrian steel. Longclaw was an impressive bastard sword and one that he said has been in the Mormont house for generations, the pride in his voice told her that he was proud to be carrying it now.

Jorah pulled something out of one of his chests and handed it to her.

“Here, I don’t want you out there without something to protect yourself with.” Her eyes met his as she grabbed the short sword from him, unsheathing the blade and looking it over.

Smiling, she strapped the sword scabbard onto her hips, the weight of the sword felt odd at her side but she knew she’d get used to it after a time.

“Thank you Jorah.” He shrugged at her, his expression showing that he only wished that it was a more impressive weapon, one fit for a royal, but she cared not.

So with that, they set out onto the island to search for the bear that had been causing havoc on a small settlement on the northernmost part of the island.

Daenerys had never seen an actual bear, so she wasn’t sure what to expect exactly.

It seemed like they were walking for hours and her feet were starting to hurt. Jorah noticed that she was beginning to trail behind everyone and he came over to her, resting his hand on her shoulder.

“Do you want to head back? I can take you back to the keep if you want.” She shook her head determinedly, though she didn’t argue when he helped her onto the back of one of the horses that they had brought with them.

On and on they walked, the rocky, beaten path winding around trees and outcroppings.

Finally, one of the men in the front motioned for everyone to stop and that was when Daenerys heard a roar from further in the woods, a sound that sent shivers down her back.

With Jorah’s help, she got down from the horse and unsheathed her sword before putting it back when Jorah cocked an eyebrow at her.

Daenerys vaguely knew what a bear looked like, but she had to say the real thing was much more terrifying than a picture on a banner.

She promised Jorah that she would stay safe and away from the fight as he and the other Bear Islanders got closer to the animal. Watching on in amazement as all of them fought the large bear, rolling and dodging its claws as it swiped at them, Daenerys was impressed on how they all knew what to do and when. Dacey stood next to her, having promised Jorah that she would protect Daenerys.

A cracking twig to her left had her head snapping over.

Her heart plummeted when she realized she was face to face with a small bear, likely the other one’s cub.

Big, brown eyes stared at her before it stood up on its hind legs and growled at her and Dacey, who was staring at the bear cub in shock herself.

Unsheathing her sword, Daenerys held the blade out towards the cub, stumbling backwards when it dropped down onto all fours and starting running at her.

She swung her sword out at the bear, terrified that it kept coming for her and realized she had _no _clue how to defend herself against a bear.

“Jorah!” Daenerys called out, her back ramming into the horse that she forgot was behind her, the black stallion snorting and stamping in annoyance.

Dacey stood in front of Daenerys, her sword trembling as she tried to stand her ground and protect Daenerys, but she herself has never stood against a live bear.

Jorah slammed bodily into the large bear cub, the both of them rolling a number of paces as he threw it off course and causing it to cry out for its mother as it took off further into the woods.

He turned towards her then, looking her over for any injuries.

“Are you alright?” Jorah asked, resting his palm over her cheek as she nodded then turned his attention to Dacey, pleased when she said she was fine too.

A splat on the ground made her eyes drop to the leaf covered dirt, a splotch of blood standing out against the green leaves. Searching for what had left the blood, she noticed that Jorah’s pants had a bloody tear in them, in the shape of the mother bear’s claws.

“Jorah! You’re bleeding!” Daenerys reached out for him, suddenly dizzy after seeing her husband’s blood. Not because she was squeamish but out of worry for the man that she loved more than anything.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.” He would never tell her that he got hit when her cry for him distracted him at just the wrong moment.

She didn’t believe him one bit, but there was nothing she could do at the moment.

Following him back to where the other Bear Islanders had managed to kill the bear, Daenerys hovered around Jorah as they loaded the animal onto a sled so they could bring it back to the keep.

Again, Jorah helped her onto the horse’s back and grabbed its reins to lead it back home.

Daenerys kept a close eye on her husband, watching the way he and the other men laughed in merriment over the hunt.

She noticed when he started limping, the wounds in his leg starting to bother him more than he wanted to admit.

“Jorah?” Daenerys caught his attention, glancing pointedly down at his bleeding leg in worry.

“I’m fine.” He patted her knee comfortingly, but she wasn’t so sure that he wasn’t just being too prideful to admit that it was affecting him.

He limped all the way back to the keep, his gait betraying the pain he was experiencing so as soon as they reached the log long hall, Daenerys all but dragged him inside and to the Maester.

Leaving him in the care of the skilled Maester, Daenerys returned to their bedroom to unwrap herself from all of the protective gear Jorah had her wear before they had left on the hunt.

By the time that she returned, the Maester had bound his leg up and was telling him to take it easy for a fortnight to let his leg heal. She bowed her head thankfully to the Maester as he left the room before she made her way to her husband.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t let you out to do things like this any longer.” Daenerys teased him gently, coming over to press a kiss to his forehead, laughing when she heard his unamused grumbling.

“I told you, it’s nothing.” She grabbed his cheeks and made him look at her, her gaze fierce.

“You could have died Jorah and I...don’t know what I’d do without you.” Daenerys told him honestly, her hands dropping down to his shoulders as they kept eye contact.

“I didn’t die Daenerys. Everything is fine my love.” Jorah pulled her onto his lap, his hands holding onto her hips as he kissed her softly, his hands moved to lay on her pregnant belly.

Since Jorah was forced into resting, something that Daenerys adamantly enforced, he spent most of his days recovering from his mishap with the bear hidden away from his wife doing something that he wouldn’t tell her about.

It quickly annoyed her and she complained to Missandei about it often over the next few days.

“I don’t know where he keeps disappearing off to!” Daenerys paced around her room, her eyes meeting Missandei’s amused gaze in irritation.

“Oh, I don’t know. Have you checked the library?” Missandei offered placating and Daenerys nodded with a frown.

“Yes, and he’s not out in the training yard either.” She bemoaned, siting heavily on the bed and resting her hand on her large belly.

“Hmm...that’s strange indeed.” Daenerys narrowed her eyes at her friend, suddenly realizing that her friend knew more than she was letting on.

“Where is he Missandei?” Standing back up, she crossed her arms across her chest and cocked her hip out.

“I don’t know Dany.” The girl said with a smile, giggling when Daenerys glared at her in annoyance.

That’s when the man himself decided to enter the bedroom, meeting his wife’s fiery eyes calmly.

Her eyes dropped down to the furry bundle in his arms questioningly.

Walking over to her, the limp in his gait all but gone, he unclasped the cloak she was wearing and let it fall to the floor before unrolling the bundle he was carrying.

Jorah draped the fur cloak around her shoulders and stepped back from her, appraising her for a moment, then smiled.

“There you go. Now you have your own bear fur cloak.” Jorah said and she reached up to run her fingers through the soft bear fur.

“Thank you...where did you get it?” Daenerys kept running her fingers over the cloak, feeling that the craftsmanship wasn’t the greatest, but she was touched that he would get her one.

“I made it.” He told her somewhat sheepishly, his smile showing that he was nervous for her truthful verdict.

She beamed at that, the cloak becoming immensely more special to her knowing that he had taken the time to make her a bear fur cloak and no matter the craftsmanship, she knew that she would never find a finer cloak.

“It’s perfect Jorah. Thank you so much!” Kissing all over his face, she embraced him happily.

“I’m glad you like it.” Jorah seemed glad at her reaction, but then he glanced away for a moment, his expression becoming somber.

“I...made a small cloak many years ago...for the first babe, but...” Daenerys rested her hands on his cheeks, making him look at her again.

“I’m sure it will be perfect for our baby Jorah.” She knew that he was worried that she was going to be critical of the garment that had been crafted for another woman’s child, but Daenerys wasn’t petty and was perfectly happy having their baby wear the cloak.

Jorah smiled softly, kissing her cheek and nuzzling his nose against hers, making her laugh gently at the tenderness that her rugged husband showed her when they were alone.


	8. A Father's Concern

Jorah paced around the great hall, wringing his hands nervously and looked like quite a mess to everyone that was sitting around and watching the father to be.

“Ser...Why don’t you come sit down?” Missandei offered, waving at the seat next to her, but he didn’t spare as much as a glance in her direction, making her wonder if he had even heard her.

He froze as a loud cry echoed down the hallway, his wide eyes turning to stare down where his wife was.

Daenerys had gone into labor early in the night and had been in labor throughout most of the night, her cries keeping everyone awake.

The Maester had corralled everyone out of the room so he could tend to her with the help of one of the midwives, something that Jorah hadn’t liked, but didn’t put up a fight.

Once the sound of Daenerys’ pain faded away, Jorah began pacing again, running his hands through his hair as his nerves got the better of him.

“You’re going to run a hole into the ground if you keep that up Jorah.” Maege said softly, knowing the fear that her nephew was going through, after his first wife had miscarried all three of their babes before dying herself.

Jorah’s jaw clenched as another cry drifted into the hall and he looked moments away from heading to her side, the Maester’s orders be damned.

But he didn’t, instead he returned to pacing restlessly.

When the cries stopped coming in regular intervals, Jorah stopped his pacing altogether, his gaze fixed firmly down the hallway where his wife lay.

The moment that the midwife walked into the room, Jorah shot off past her, not waiting to hear the fate of his wife and child from the woman.

Opening the door to their bedchambers, he froze at the sight.

Daenerys looked at him tiredly, a small bundle wrapped in her arms.

“Jorah, come meet your daughter.” With those five words, she grounded him again and he slowly made his way over to where they were, disbelieving that this was real.

Turning his gaze down to the little girl, Jorah could feel his heart melt the moment he beheld her.

Tears ran down his face as he fell to his knees by the bedside, his finger running down her plump cheek in adoration.

“She’s perfect.” He whispered quietly, laying his cheek down on the bed and staring at the miracle in his wife’s arms.

“You want to hold her?” Daenerys questioned and he looked at her like the idea had never even crossed his mind, but it suddenly was the only thing in the world that he wanted in that moment.

Gently, he held his arms out for Daenerys to transfer their baby girl to him and he was amazed at how...tiny she was.

“She’s got your hair.” Jorah noticed, the soft silver fuzz on his daughter’s head showing her Targaryen ancestry.

“She’s got your nose.” Daenerys countered with a soft giggle when he cocked his eyebrow at her, obviously not seeing what she had.

“She’s beautiful Daenerys.” Jorah replied, sitting on the edge of the bed as he held their daughter in his arms, the child he had never thought he would have.

“What should we name her?” Daenerys eventually asked, knowing that they had discussed a couple names already, but they had never settled on a definite one.

Jorah smiled at her, his expression beaming the affection he felt for her.

“Rhaella, after your mother.” Jorah offered and Daenerys could feel herself tearing up at his thoughtfulness. She hadn’t wanted to admit how much she had wanted to name their first daughter after the mother she had never met, but her husband had picked up how much the name had meant to her.

“Rhaella Mormont.” Daenerys agreed, taking the baby from him when he handed her over.

Daenerys couldn’t agree more that Rhaella was perfect in every way, from her nose to her cheeks she was everything that Daenerys had ever hoped for.

*

Jorah’s face darkened at his aunt’s words, shaking his head adamantly as he turned away from her to stare into the fireplace.

“No. I’m not sending a raven to him.” Jorah said, his tone leaving little room for argument, but Maege was stubborn had continued pushing him.

“Your father deserves to know he’s a grandfather.” She argued, standing her ground when he glared at her fiercely, though she knew he was masking his emotions.

“I said no.” He was being bull-headed about it and she knew he wasn’t likely to change his mind any time soon.

“You need to forgive him Jorah.” Maege told her nephew, resting her hand on his shoulder. She knew that her brother would be devastated to find out that his son had kept the knowledge that he was a grandfather from him.

“He left me, to take the black. Why should I?” Jorah snapped at her, his voice betraying the hurt he still felt from his father’s sudden departure from his life.

“Jorah...he was grieving...” She tried to explain to him, but knew that was the wrong thing to say when Jorah’s eyes sparked heatedly.

“He was grieving? He lost his wife yes, but I lost my mother that day too. Then I lost my father because he couldn’t fucking deal with it.” Maege watched the silent tear drip down his cheek before he furiously rubbed it away with his hand, refusing to acknowledge its presence.

She didn’t know what to tell him.

It was clear that Jorah had been deeply hurt the day Jeor handed him Longclaw and left on the ship to Castle Black, simply unable to bear being in the halls where the ghost of his wife still danced.

_And where her eyes still blinked back at him from a boy barely grown’s face._

“Besides, the day he took the Night’s Watch vows was the day he was no longer my father. _I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children._” Reciting a part of the Night’s Watch vows, Jorah stood resolutely against sending a raven to his father at the wall.

Maege knew she wouldn’t be able to convince him then.

“Fine, if you won’t, then I will. He has a right to know.” Maege stood her ground when he whirled on her, fury plastered on his face.

“No! I forbid you to do any such thing. He has no fucking right to know about this child. He’s a man of the Night’s Watch now and that is the family he has chosen over us.” Jorah was pissed, at what, she wasn’t sure but the anger and hurt he resonated told her of a wound that had festered for much too long.

“I won’t then, I promise. But Jorah...I still think you need to tell him, to talk to him at least.” Maege knew he wasn’t listening, his back had turned on her as he stormed from the room to return to his wife and new child.

In the end, it was Daenerys who managed to break down his walls and convince him to write to his father and inform him about his granddaughter. She had been surprised to learn that his father was still alive and she quickly figured out that Jorah was bitter about the lack of relationship he had with the older Mormont.

His letter, which she read over to ensure that he was actually putting in the information she wanted him to, was short and curt, but she didn’t want to push him to write any more than he had.

Daenerys sent the raven out herself, not quite trusting that he wouldn’t just burn the letter instead of sending it.

If it wasn’t for his new child to keep his mind off of everything, Jorah would have spent most of the following days grumbling and grunting about the letter to his father, but Rhaella remained the focus of his attention between his duties as Lord of Bear Island.

Sitting down at the desk in their room, Daenerys chuckled softly as she kept getting distracted from writing her own letter to her brother to inform him about her daughter. Jorah lay on the bed with Rhaella on his chest as he quietly sang a song that she had never heard to the little girl.

As she poured wax onto the letter and stamped it with her three-headed dragon sigil, Daenerys decided that sending it out could wait until the next morning, the temptation to join her husband and their daughter was too great.

Carefully, she crawled onto the bed and laid her head on Jorah’s shoulder, snuggling into him when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer.

Rhaella was fast asleep on her father’s chest, her plump cheek pressed into his hairy torso as she slept soundly.

“Why is it that she never wants to sleep when I have her?” Daenerys whispered, amazed at his ability to get the girl to go to bed so soundly.

Jorah chuckled softly, pressing a kiss on her forehead as he pulled the covers over the both of them, ensuring that Rhaella was comfortable.

“Perhaps it’s because I’ve got extra insulation.” He joked quietly, feeling her laughter rumble through his side.

“Hmm...that’s got to be it.”


	9. A Man's Apology

“Lord Commander. A raven.” A man dressed in black entered his office without knocking and Jeor stared at him for a long moment, trying to recall the man’s name, but finding himself utterly unable to.

“Hand it over.” The Old Bear grabbed the scroll from the other man and nodded for him to leave before he returned to his chair, sitting down with a heavy sigh.

Blinking twice when he saw that the seal on the scroll was that of a bear, Jeor’s heart skipped a beat.

The last letter he had received from his son had informed him of his wife and child’s passing, the third one that he had gotten in his boy’s ten year marriage and it about broke his heart, knowing that Jorah was likely suffering from the loss.

_Much like I had...but I have Jorah to remind me of **her**. He has nothing._

He had debated that day whether he should visit Bear Island to console his son, but in the end he wasn’t sure he could face the ghosts that lived in the hall he had once called home so he stayed at Castle Black.

With another tired sigh, Jeor popped the wax seal off the paper and unrolled it, his eyes wandering over the few lines that his son had written to him before re-reading them to ensure he had read them correctly.

_Father,_

_I’ve remarried. You’ve got a granddaughter._

_Jorah_

Granddaughter.

He’s a grandfather.

Setting the scroll down on his desk, Jeor ran his hand through his white beard, resting his palm on his jaw.

With a snort, he rested his eyes on the paper as he realized that Jorah was still hurt over his leaving if his clipped writing was anything to go from.

He knew that he needed to return to Bear Island, if not to see his granddaughter, then to try and mend things with his son.

Castle Black would be fine without him for a fortnight or so, he’d leave the Night’s Watch in good hands so he could visit his kin.

**

Stepping off the ship onto the docks of Bear Island brought back memories like a stormy wave crashing into him.

Even though he hadn’t been there in over a decade, Jeor remembered exactly how to get to Mormont Keep, the trails coming back to him like he had never left.

As he stood in front of the door, the carving of the Lady of Bear Island with her battleax and babe in her hands loomed over his head comforting him.

Pushing the door open, he stepped inside, unsure on how he would be received.

“Well, look what the waves have dragged in.” Maege snorted, surprised to see her brother standing in the middle of the doorway, dressed in all black.

His eyes drifted around the room, seeing his three nieces (at least he assumed those three girls were his sister’s daughters) sitting with a dark skinned woman, having been engaged in some sort of game with her.

_Was she Jorah’s wife?_

“You’ve not changed much have you Maege?” Jeor eventually said, coming further into the hall and grunting when his younger sister hugged him tightly.

“And you’ve gone white Jeor.” She laughed, pulling back and patting his bearded cheek.

“Har har, you’re so funny Maege.” He replied with a distinct lack of amusement as he let his eyes wander over the young girls that he barely knew or knew not at all.

“Those are Dacey, Alysane and Lyra, my daughters. The older girl is Missandei.” Said girl bowed her head gently to him, standing up from the rug they all had been sitting on.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you My Lord.”

Jeor glanced over at Maege, his question in his eyes and she shook her head.

“I’m sure you want to see Jorah and his wife and their babe. Come, follow me.” Maege waved him to her, smiling to Missandei as the other girl returned to watching over her children.

Jeor remained silent as he followed his sister to where his son was, surprised that nerves filled him over this reunion.

“You know...he didn’t want to tell you about his daughter at all. His wife convinced him otherwise.” She paused, glancing back at him sadly. “He’s still bitter about you leaving.”

Jeor sighed and nodded his head, having figured as much and he didn’t blame the boy one bit.

She stopped him in front of the Lord’s chambers, resting her hand on his shoulder encouragingly and without saying a single word more, left him.

He rested his hand on the wooden door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open, his eyes quickly scanning the room and freezing when he met his son’s bright blue eyes that turned stormy when he saw who had entered.

“Father.” Jorah said, his voice harsh.

“Jorah.” Jeor replied softly, entering the room and glancing behind his son to where the silver haired woman was holding a bundle in her arms.

“What do you want? Why are you here?” His son questioned, shifting in front of his wife and child as if to shield them from his view.

“I...wanted to see my granddaughter...and meet my good daughter.”

A_nd to apologize to you Jorah. Tell you I still love you._

He knew he should tell him, but pride kept him from saying what he wanted to.

“That’s funny, since I thought that men of the Night’s Watch forsake their families when they take their vows.” Jorah growled, his arms crossing over his chest as he cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Or...what? Are you a special exception to this rule?”

Jeor frowned, knowing he probably deserved this, but his son’s words didn’t hurt any less knowing this.

“I may have taken the Night’s Watch vows, but no words can break the bond of blood.” Jeor futilely added, feeling that convincing his son to forgive him would be harder than he had originally thought.

The boy that had been quick to smile when he was younger had hardened in his absence and Jeor’s heart ached for it.

Jorah huffed, refusing to look at his father as he shifted on his feet.

“Jorah...” The girl behind his son spoke up, turning her violet eyes to Jorah and meeting his gaze.

It was almost as if they had a conversation with their eyes since Jorah sighed heavily and turned back to face Jeor, a frown still plastered on his face.

“Fine. You can meet them.” Jorah finally conceded, moving to take the baby from his wife, cradling the babe’s head gently.

Jeor slowly walked over to meet his son in the middle of the room, his own ice blue eyes dropping down to the little girl in his son’s arms. He nearly held his arms out to take her from Jorah then thought better of assuming that he was even allowed to touch his son’s family.

“May I?” He asked, reaching his arms out far enough to let Jorah know what he meant.

Jorah’s nostrils flared, revealing how much he wanted to deny him, so Jeor was surprised when he held the girl out and transferred the baby over to him.

“Her name’s Rhaella.” Jorah told him, running his own finger over the baby’s silver fuzz adoringly.

“She’s beautiful Jorah.” Jeor said to his son, the feeling in his heart bursting with a love that he hadn’t felt since he had held Jorah for the first when he was just a babe himself.

“Of course she is. She looks like her mother.” Jeor looked up at the girl’s mother, noting that she had distinctly Valyrian traits.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you my girl.” The Old Bear nodded at her slightly, watching as she stood up from the bed that she had been sitting when he walked in.

“As it is you my Lord.” He watched her stand next to Jorah, her arm looping around his son’s as she rested her head on his shoulder, their height difference made him smile gently.

“I’m Jeor by the way. I...don’t know if Jorah’s already told you.” Shifting the baby girl in his arms, he smiled more widely at her than he had smiled in...years...decades even.

“Daenerys, and no, he really didn’t.” Though he hadn’t known Daenerys for long, she seemed like a very sweet girl and he was surprised that Jorah had been able to win her over.

“Daenerys...I’ve been told that I have you to thank. Else I wouldn’t have been informed about this little one.” Jeor stated, glancing at Jorah and meeting his blank expression with a look of sadness and hurt.

She giggled and poked Jorah in his side, making him squirm and look at her curiously. When he saw that she was teasing him, he grabbed her and pulled her back against his chest and held her there. Squealing as she squirmed in his arms, Daenerys laughed and fought to escape Jorah’s grasp before giving up and letting him hold her.

“It’s not a problem at all Jeor. I’m just happy that you know and that you are here.” With a content sigh, she settled into Jorah’s hold as she rested her hands over his forearms and her thumbs ran over his wrists.

“Are you Valyrian? Forgive me for asking...” Jeor eventually asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Daenerys nodded her head, her silver hair bobbing with her movements and shimmering in the dim light.

“Yes, I am. Princess Daenerys Targaryen Mormont.”

“Well that’s a mouthful.” Jorah rumbled and made her laugh, her head tilting back to look up at him in love and adoration.

“P-princess!? You’re the Princess of Westeros?” Jeor’s eyebrow’s flew up, making like he was going to kneel to her before remembering he had a precious bundle in his arms and thought better of it.

Daenerys saw what he was trying and waved his attempt away with a soft laugh.

“I am, and family doesn’t need kneel to me. I’d prefer it if you didn’t actually.”

Jeor looked at her for a moment before searching for his son’s eyes, silently trying to figure out how his boy had managed to catch the eye of the Princess.

“Do you like it here on Bear Island?” He eventually asked, thinking that a girl that had grown up with the luxuries of extravagance in King’s Landing would have found the drab and dreary conditions of the small island to be miserable.

“I do. Very much so.” Daenerys said, her voice lacking any falsities. “I enjoy being able to be myself without having to keep up with all the pleasantries that being a princess forced upon me.” She explained further when his expression was skeptical.

“We are a different sort of people, we Bear Islanders, but you are still the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms and deserve a life that makes you happy.” Jeor ran his hand through his beard, feeling almost bad that she had somehow ended up here of all places, surely Jorah didn’t tell her about the conditions she would be living in should she marry him.

“And I am very happy here, with Jorah. He’s been training me how to use a sword and fish. At some point I want him to show me how to skin an animal and create furs and hides from it, also how to hunt, I think that’s a very useful skill to have.” Daenerys’ tone made Jeor believe every word she said and he was absolutely stunned by her.

Never had he met a highborn lady that had wanted to do any _one _of those things, never mind everything that she was naming off.

Somehow, Jorah had found a gem of a woman.

“I’m sure you will exceed spectacularly my girl.” He said to his good daughter, his attention returning to the baby girl in his arms as she made a soft noise.

Handing over the babe to her mother, Jeor turned his gaze upon his son, watching Jorah’s eyes soften as he looked at his daughter in adoration.

Leaving the new parents alone with their child, Jeor slipped out of the room silently.

*

It was as if he had never left and it was an odd feeling, sitting in front of the weirwood tree as the cool spring breeze rustled the red leaves.

As a young man, he’d come here often and pray to the old gods, but as he got older, he found himself coming here less and less until his wife died and then he stopped coming here altogether.

He had thought that returning to Bear Island would be too painful to do, the memories of the woman that he loved making his heart ache, but the joy and love he found in these halls eased the pain until he couldn’t feel it at all.

The soft crunching of fallen leaves let Jeor know that someone had followed him out here yet his eyes didn’t leave the crying face of the weirwood to see who is was.

He already knew.

They stopped a few paces behind him, shifting on their feet as they looked over the tree themselves.

“It’s been a long time since last I’ve come out here.”

Jeor finally glanced back at his son, seeing that Jorah’s gaze was fixed solely on the godswood.

“Aye, I haven’t prayed to the gods since your mother died.” Jeor admitted, his throat tightening.

Jorah looked at him then, meeting his blue eyes blankly then nodded.

“I stopped coming here once the gods took my second child, I’ve already given them enough. I’m not wasting my time praying to something that might not even exist.” Somewhere along the way, Jorah had become a cynic, not wanting to believe there was something higher than themselves, although if there were gods, they were kind to him when they brought Daenerys into his life.

They lapsed into silence, both son and father unsure how to broach the topic that lingered over their heads like a stormy cloud.

“Princess Daenerys is something special.” Jeor stated after a few minutes, glancing over at Jorah, wishing that their relationship wasn’t as strained as it was.

“She is. I still wonder at times how I ended up married to her.” The younger Mormont admitted, a tender smile coming across his face as he thought of the beautiful silver haired woman that was back at the keep with their daughter.

“She loves you.” He stated, knowing it was true, he had seen it in her sparkling violet eyes when she looked at Jorah.

Jorah nodded wordlessly, his hands clenched at his side as his gaze drifted from his father back to the weirwood tree, the red sap dripping infinitely slow from the eyes of the face carved into the trunk.

“How long do you plan on staying?” Jorah eventually asked as he stared at anything but the man seated a few paces next to him.

Jeor sighed, from his son’s tone his question was closer to _When are you leaving?_

“I was hoping to stay a fortnight...as long as you allow me to.” Jorah looked over at him then, meeting his eyes for a long moment.

It was Jorah’s turn to sigh.

“Why did you leave?”

Eyebrow’s raising up at the question, not having expecting this change of conversation, Jeor let his eyes fall down to his hands in his lap.

“I...just couldn’t stay here. Not after...after your mother died.” He explained softly, missing the way Jorah rankled at his words.

“So you left me here, to deal with the memories of her alone? After you married me off to some girl I didn’t know and then dumped me with the Lordship while you were a coward and hid from everything? Because you weren’t man enough to deal with it?” Jorah snapped at him and Jeor’s head raised to look his angry son in the eye.

Standing up, Jeor faced down the younger man, hurt and angry at the words that were thrown at him.

But just as quickly as the anger bubbled up within him, it melted away and he let out a tired sigh.

“You’re right. I was a coward and I ran instead of facing down my ghosts.” Jeor admitted and he could see the surprise that flashed across Jorah’s face.

“You’ve done a better job being the Lord of Bear Island than I ever did.” His mouth ran dry as he continued, he knew that the hardest words to say were seemingly the most simple and it pained him that he had waited so long to say them to his son.

“I’m sorry.” Jorah blinked at him in shock, obviously not having expected the apology.

The younger Mormont said nothing, his eyes dropping down to the leaf littered ground in a way that was reminiscent of when he was younger and was being reprimanded for doing something wrong.

“I’ll leave on the morrow.” The Old Bear told him, making Jorah look up at him again.

“You’ll do nothing of the sort. You’ve come all the way here, you might as well stay for a while.” Jorah argued and Jeor couldn’t help the affectionate smile that peeked through his fluffy white beard

“If the Lord of Bear Island insists, then I will stay.” The old Mormont chuckled at the way that his son’s face puckered up at that, finding it strange to be having his father calling him the Lord.

“Corn! Corn! Corn!” A big, black raven flew from behind them and landed on Jeor’s broad shoulder, cocking his head at both Mormonts curiously.

“That old fucker is still alive? Why’d you bring him back?” Jorah about laughed, staring at the old bird in amazement.

“Fuck! Fuck!” The bird replied gleefully, hopping around on the fur covered shoulder for a moment before flying over to the younger Mormont, alighting happily on Jorah’s shoulder.

“He wouldn’t let me leave without him. And you’ve taught him some unpleasant phrases that he loves to spew out at the worse of times.” Jeor chuckled as he watched his raven peck at his son’s ear, remembering when Jorah would sit there all day and repeat phrases to the bird in an attempt to teach it something new.

Jorah looked at him unamused, swiping at the bird when it’s beak closed around his earlobe painfully, only for the bird to return back to his shoulder and perch there happily.

“Corn? Corn? Shit!” The bird called out and Jorah’s eyes widened, his hand flying up to sweep the bird from his shoulder as Jeor laughed, knowing the bird loved to call out right before crapping on his own cloak.

“Gods that bird is as annoying as I remember.” Jorah huffed, glaring at the raven when it settled into his fur cloak lining in contentment.

“He missed you too Jorah.” Jeor smiled and followed his son back to the keep, feeling like their relationship was on the mend.

It still had a lot of holes that needed fixing, but now, Jeor could see a small light at the end of the long road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Jeor Mormont's raven in the books is one of the things I was sad that they cut from the show. I mean, I get it, it would be hard to add, but I loved that bird. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed!


	10. A Lady's Trouble

“Promise me that you won’t be such a stranger?”

“As long as you promise me that I will get word of when the next little prince or princess is coming.”

Father and son stood across from one another on the docks, the ship that would be taking the older Mormont back to the Wall looming behind him.

“I promise.” Jorah conceded, shaking his father’s hand firmly before taking a step back.

Daenerys handed Rhaella over to Jorah before throwing her arms around Jeor’s neck and embracing him.

“I’m happy that you came.” Daenerys told Jeor as she released him with a bright smile. She felt that his trip there had much too short, but she was glad to see the progress that father and son had made in fixing their strained relationship.

Sure, it would take more time to mend it completely, but they were on their way to patching the break.

“I am too. I’ll try and visit whenever I can, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t come up and visit Castle Black at some point.” He said and she nodded, knowing that she would try to convince her husband to travel to the Wall some time later, it was always something that had fascinated her and she had always wanted to see it for herself.

With one last look at his granddaughter, Jeor headed to the boat and waved at his kin as the ship left port and this time, he was able to look his son in the eye as he left.

They waited until they could no longer see the ship before heading back up the docks to the keep.

Returning back home, Jorah and Daenerys put Rhaella down for her nap, the baby not stirring as her father laid her gently down in the cradle.

He placed a kiss on her silver fuzzy head and looked down at her like she was his world.

_...Or at least half of his world_ he amended as Daenerys leaned her head against his shoulder.

Wrapping his arm around his wife’s shoulder, Jorah led her to their bed and sat on the edge, pulling her down to sit next to him.

He didn’t need to say anything to her to let her know that he was thankful for her insistence at him writing to his father.

Daenerys hummed in content as she snuggled into her husband’s side.

“I got word from Rhaegar.” She recalled the letter that had arrived the previous day from her older brother.

Jorah made a noise in his chest to pose the question of ‘_what did it say?’ _without outright asking if she didn’t want to share it with him.

“Once Rhaella is old enough to travel, he wants us to travel to King’s Landing so he can meet her.” Daenerys told him, smiling softly as he tightened his hold on her.

It had been over a year since she had left the capital, and while she loved Bear Island almost as much as she loved Jorah, there were times that she missed the brightly colored flowers and the lizards that skittered through the keep when it was warm.

“Do you miss it?” Jorah asked having seemingly read her mind, his eyes focused at the wall in front of them, though his question had urged Daenerys to look at him.

“Jorah...” She said and it caused him to tear his slightly worried gaze over to her.

“Yes, there are times that I miss the bright flowers and the lush green grass...” Daenerys started to tell him and the flicker of pain that crossed his face before he cut her off drew out a furrowed expression from her.

“You know whenever you want to travel back home you can, I won’t stop you.” Jorah told her and paused at her unamused stare.

“Like I was saying, there are times that I miss it, but then I look around me at the beautiful forests and the waterfalls and I remember that I _am _home. I am home because I am with you.” Daenerys sat on his lap and straddled his hips, resting her forehead against his.

She watched as he smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her to him.

“Gods my love, there are times that I look at you...and I can’t believe you are real.” Jorah’s words melted Daenerys’ heart and she pressed her lips to his.

“I am real Jorah and I am your wife as you are my husband.” Resting her head onto his shoulder, she melded into his body, loving the way they fit together like pieces in a puzzle.

A few paces away, their child burbled to herself, having woken from her nap.

\---

Little did Daenerys know that their bubble of happiness would threaten to burst not even a fortnight later.

\---

Waking up to an empty bed, Daenerys stretched and got up, making her way over to where Rhaella was still sleeping.

She picked up her daughter and cooed to her softly when she started to fuss.

Nothing in particular that day had given her any cause to suspect anything.

It wasn’t until she entered the main hall of the keep that it finally occurred to her that something was amiss.

“But mother, I’ve been practicing real hard! I’m ready!” Dacey pouted, stomping her foot on the wooden floor petulantly.

“I told you no Dacey. You are not ready yet. You have to stay here.” Maege told her daughter firmly, standing nearby Jorah while she sharpened her battle ax with a whetstone.

“But I am ready!” The little girl argued, unfazed by her mother’s sharp glare.

Daenerys noticed that her husband was armored up, Longclaw belted onto his hips and she got a shiver of dread.

Jorah saw her then and came over to where she was standing with a soft smile. He rubbed his fingers against Rhaella’s fuzzy hair before placing a kiss on her head.

“What’s going on Jorah?” Daenerys asked, her voice laced with worry.

He looked at her and ran his thumb over her cheek then kissed her soundly, but she wasn’t about to let him charm his way out of answering her.

Pulling back, she looked at him pointedly.

“It’s nothing really. A couple of Kraken ships have been spotted just south of the island.” Jorah explained and chuckled at her confused expression.

“Kraken?” She questioned, glancing over at Missandei when she came into the room with Lyra and Alysane by her side.

“Aye. Greyjoys.” Jorah told her and the recognizable family name made her understand what he had meant.

“So...why are you all...suited up then?” While she knew _who _was coming, she still didn’t know the impact of it all.

“The krakens come to raid our island, steal our resources, our property and our women. So we must fend them off when they come ashore.” Daenerys’ eyebrows narrowed at his admission and she was furious.

“How long have they been doing this?” She questioned her husband, appalled that this had been going on underneath the crown’s nose and they hadn’t done anything to help.

“For generations now I suppose.” He shrugged then turned his attention to his aunt as she joined them.

“You ready Jorah?” Maege asked, tossing her ax from hand to hand in what Daenerys would call glee.

“Aye. Stay here love, we will be back later.” Jorah told her and the thought that it was possible that he wouldn’t return hit her hard.

Kissing her one last time, Jorah followed his aunt out of the keep, the heavy wooden doors shutting behind them and blocking out the chilly spring air.

In her arms, Rhaella sucked on her fingers and cooed happily, blissfully unaware of the danger that her father was heading into.

Daenerys turned to Missandei with a look of worry plastered on her face.

“I’m sure he will be fine Princess, he’s got a lot to live for.” Her friend tried to ease her uneasiness, but it did little to help.

She sighed and sat down at the table, the smell of the porridge turned her stomach.

“Remind me Missandei, when Jorah returns, that I order him to never fight again.” Daenerys muttered softly, imagining the look on her husband’s face if she ever did such.

Missandei giggled, raising an eyebrow at her then turned her attention to the eight month old Lyra in her own arms.

Maege’s two youngest had taken an instant liking to the Naathi girl and followed her everywhere.

“I’m not sure he would take that too well Princess.” Missandei said and Daenerys knew she was right, Jorah wouldn’t like being ordered to never pick up a sword again and she knew that she would never be able to _actually _force that order upon him.

“I know...I’m just...worried.” She admitted quietly as she cradled her and Jorah’s child against her breast.

Rhaella blinked up at her mother with her bright violet eyes and gave her a smile, the first that Daenerys had received from the baby.

Smiling at her daughter, Daenerys hoped that the girl would grow up knowing her father. As a child, Daenerys had never had the opportunity to meet her mother as she had died in childbirth so she knew the hole that the missing parent left in one’s heart and she didn’t want that for Rhaella.

_Please come home Jorah._

_We need you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I have one more chapter fully written out, which means once it is posted, there might be a longer gap in between updates while I balance my stressful school work and writing (if and when I get time to write). It also doesn't help that I keep coming up with ideas that I want to write out that has nothing to do with the three other stories I'm already working on...like please brain just calm down and let me finish my other stories first...
> 
> I've gotten this one pretty much outlined out through to the end and it is panning out to have probably another ten(?) chapters or so.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed!


	11. A Warrior's Call

Standing on the shore of the cold northern island that most in Westeros would call dreary, drab and inhospitable, the warriors of Bear Island faced down the incoming ships with a ferocity that would make their sigil proud.

For generations, Krakens arose from the sea to pillage and rape their way through the Bear’s home, trying to force them to pay the iron price

And for generations the Mormonts have stood their ground and beaten the Greyjoys back, each man and woman fighting with the strength of ten mainlanders.

Today would not be the day that the Bear Islanders lost, if they ever did.

The Lord of Bear Island stood in the front of his fighting force, his back straight and his chin lifted confidently. He lacked his normal bear fur cloak, instead he had donned his iron armor plating and his Valyrian steel sword shone brightly in the morning sunlight.

Seeing the first boat get lowered, filled to the brim with Greyjoy men, Jorah spoke to his fighters.

“The Krakens once again are pushing their luck fighting with us bears. They’ve never won in the past and where are we today?” His voice echoed through the silent spring air, gruff and loud.

“Here we Stand!” Everyone behind their Lord replied, clanging their shields and weapon of choice together enthusiastically.

“Greyjoys will die, their raid having failed but where will we be?” Jorah yelled out, his boots crunching the sandy rocks beneath his feet as he shifted, preparing for the first wave of enemies that were reaching the shore.

“Here we Stand!” The Bear Islanders screamed out in a sort of warcry before rushing down the beach to try and get the first blood as the Greyjoys clambered out of their boat and engaged them.

Jorah had figured that the Krakens would have still been licking their wounds after their defeat at Pyke, but yet here they were, trying to steal from the neighboring island.

Swinging his sword up, Jorah parried a Greyjoy ax before using the momentum to shove the other man backwards. He buried Longclaw into the man’s gut and let his body fall to the sandy shore.

Around him, Bear Islanders danced the dance of war, swords and axes clashing and breaking up the normally silent and serene coast.

Man after man fell around him, some slain by his own blade, some taken out by the men and women of Bear Island while some fell from Greyjoy intruders.

His eyes locked with a Greyjoy as the other man stormed his way up the beach. Shifting his stance, Jorah’s boots dug into the rocky shore, his mind racing to his girls back at the keep.

Daenerys’ bright violet eyes and shimmering silver hair, their daughter’s pale violet eyes and fuzzy silver hair, both being the most beautiful creations that the gods, old or new, had allowed to walk the land. The thought of both of them gave him the strength to fight, to protect his home because he knew that if he didn’t...

If he failed...

Then there was no saying what would happen to the ones he loved at the hands of his enemies.

\----

“Have faith in him Princess.”

Daenerys turned her head to her friend and tried to offer a smile, but she fell short as her mind returned to her husband.

Shifting Rhaella in her arms, mother looked down at her small daughter, still having a hard time comprehending that she and Jorah had created something so perfect together.

“It’s not that I don’t think him capable of defending himself...” Daenerys knew he was an accomplished fighter, after all he had been knighted by her brother for his bravery.

Missandei stared at her for a long moment before coming to sit next to her and rest her hand on her friend’s knee.

“Then what is bothering you so greatly Dany?” She met the Princess’ gaze and watched the other woman think for a moment.

“It’s just...his heart can be in the right spot, but...” Daenerys trailed off and Missandei tightened her grip on her knee, making her look at her.

“You’re still blaming yourself for him getting hurt on the bear hunt aren’t you?” Seeing the way the Targaryen girl flinched and looked away, Missandei knew she had her answer, but Daenerys answered her still the same.

“I shouldn’t have even been on that hunt, but...” Daenerys met her eyes again and she could see the guilt that her friend had lingering in her gaze. “I just wanted to prove that I belong here. That I’m not some weak southern girl.” Her voice hitched and she shook her head forlornly.

“But I was a stubborn fool and Jorah got hurt because of me.”

Missandei grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together.

“You don’t need to prove yourself to _anyone _Dany. You know Jorah loves you, more than anything and that is **all** that matters right?” She saw the way that Daenerys’ eyes lightened slightly and Missandei knew that her words had struck something in her friend’s heart.

“I...suppose you are right. It still does not change the fact that I am to blame for him getting hurt that day.” In her arms, Rhaella stirred and reached out for her, searching for food. As she settled her daughter in her hold, Daenerys felt Missandei rubbing her shoulder softly.

“Use that mistake as a lesson and don’t let it happen again. Next time there is a bear hunt, you’ll be more prepared and will know your limitations.” Daenerys looked at her friend and smiled, nodding her head gently.

“Aye...you’re right. I’ll be ready for the next one and if I am not, I will listen to Jorah and not be so stubborn about going.” She stated firmly and looked down at the little girl in her arms for a moment before returning her eyes to her friend questioningly when she started giggling.

“What? What’s so funny Missy?” Her friend just shook her head and glanced over to where Lyra, Alysane and Dacey were playing.

“Nothing really Princess...” She met her handmaiden’s eyes, showing her that she wasn’t going to accept that as an answer.

“It’s just...you said ‘aye’. You’re beginning to sound like a true northerner.” Missandei eventually told her and Daenerys had to backtrack in her mind, trying to recall if she had and smiled.

“Jorah must be rubbing off on me I guess.” Daenerys conceded, though not with any sense of regret.

“I’m sure he’s doing more than just _rubbing _off on you.” Dacey piped up from across the room, her bright blue eyes full of mischief and hidden meanings.

Just as Daenerys was about to reply to her comment, her words died when the doors to the keep opened and the relatively silent room transformed with the commotion from outside.

“Get him inside now!” Maege’s bark burst through the other’s worried chattering and Daenerys’ gaze shot over to Missandei’s for a split second as panic settled into her stomach.

“Mama? What’s going on?” Dacey hopped up from her spot and rushed over to the group that was entering the keep, but she froze when Maege held her hand out to stop her from coming closer.

“Jorah’s injured.” The older Mormont answered and Daenerys’ heart nearly dropped to her stomach.

The group of Bear Islanders were half carrying-half dragging their Lord as he shuffled forward, bordering on the verge of unconsciousness.

Daenerys didn’t want to get in their way, but her consuming worry about her husband had her following them closely.

Settling their Lord into his bed, earning a pained groan from him, the Bear Islanders stepped back and let the maester get to work, each of them casting Daenerys an almost remorseful look as they left the room.

While the looks from them would have made her heart feel light since their kind eyes showed that they accepted her as their Lady, any nice feelings she would have had were soured due to the fear she was experiencing.

It wasn’t until Maege rested her hand on her shoulder that Daenerys tore her gaze away from the still form of her husband.

“Let’s leave them be. We don’t want to get in the way.” The older Mormont said softly, the woman’s normal biting tone was missing and it made Daenerys reconsider her first instinct of refusing and she found herself walking out of the room, shooting one last glance over her shoulder at Jorah.

Once the door was shut behind them, Daenerys turned her gaze to Jorah’s aunt and appraised her bloodied state.

“What happened?” She found herself asking as she settled Rhaella more comfortably against her shoulder.

Maege sighed, shaking her head slowly and meeting her violet eyes with a soft smile.

“Jorah fought valiantly, but all it takes is one wrong step, one misjudged movement...and the next thing you know you have a sword skewered through a weak point in your armor.” The older woman breathed out through her nose and rubbed a finger against Rhaella’s soft cheek caringly.

“Thankfully my nephew is a tough cub. He fought the rest of the battle bleeding heavily and it wasn’t until he had seen that the Greyjoys stopped coming, that he finally acknowledged that he was hurt.” Maege snorted, though Daenerys could sense the love the other woman felt for her kin.

“I daresay he was thinking of you and this lil’ one the whole battle.” Patting her good niece’s cheek, her hands still covered in blood and leaving a smudge on Daenerys’ pale skin, Maege’s lips drooped into a frown.

When the other woman tried to fix what she had inadvertently did by rubbing her cuff of her sleeve against the mark, she frowned even deeper when it only aggravated the problem.

“You’ll have to get that dealt with. I’m only making it worse.” Maege chuckled then turned around, leaving Daenerys alone with Rhaella.

It wasn’t until that evening that Daenerys was able to enter the room and see Jorah, the Maester having done all that he could for the moment.

“I’ve given him Milk of the poppy, he’ll be angry when he finds out, he’s always refused to take any of the stuff, but it will ease his pain and help him get a good night’s rest.” The Maester told her on his way out, bowing his head to her in respect as she entered the room to check on her husband herself.

Shutting the wooden door behind her, Daenerys walked carefully over to the bed, afraid that making any noise would awaken Jorah, but he didn’t. Not even when she sat on the edge of the bed next to him and held his hand in hers.

She ran her thumb across his bruised knuckles as her eyes drifted over his weary face. Though he was sleeping, he looked troubled, so Daenerys leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead, which seemed to ease his mind as the wrinkles that had been there moments before, disappeared.

Daenerys sat with him for most of the evening, only leaving his side when Rhaella required her breast to suckle at. The babe slept soundly in her cradle and the few times she awoke, she was always quiet, as if she sensed her father’s pain and didn’t want to bother him.

When sleep beckoned her, she carefully settled into the bed next to Jorah, keeping her arms to herself even though she had gotten used to wrapping them around his hairy torso and resting her head over his heart, the steady beating of which lulled her to a gentle slumber, letting know that he was alive and they were safe.

But tonight, she settled with watching his profile as the single candle in the room flickered and dimly lit his swarthy skin and copper-blonde hair.

When it became too difficult to keep her eyes open, she listened to the rasping breaths that he took and prayed to the gods, either the new or old it mattered not to her, she prayed to them that they not take him from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise you Jorah is going to be just fine. I swear I will not kill him off (or Daenerys) in this story, so you can breath easy :)


	12. The Dragon's Stubborn Bear

Jorah didn’t wake up the next day.

The Maester said something about his body recovering and saving energy, but Daenerys barely listened to what he was saying as it only meant that Jorah wasn’t waking up for a time that he couldn’t determine.

Daenerys stayed by his side for most of the day, only stepping away when necessary.

Once, she had to step in as ‘Lady of Bear Island’ to make a decision on a problem that a woman whose husband had died during the Greyjoy attack had come to them with.

It was the first thing she had done as ‘Lady’, but as the woman with her two children trailing at her heels left the keep with a basket of food and a huge smile on her face, Daenerys knew that she had done the right thing.

So when Jorah finally woke up the morning after, groaning in pain, she went into action and urged him to drink the milk of the poppy that the maester had left by his bedside. He had tried to refuse, but Daenerys wasn’t hearing it and he eventually conceded to drinking it reluctantly.

After she placed the vial back on the table and she turned to him, Daenerys frowned and pushed him lightly back onto the bed when she saw that he was trying to sit up.

“You need to rest.” She could see that the milk of the poppy was making him sleepy, but since it was numbing the pain from the deep cut on his hip, he felt that he was well enough to get out of bed.

He looked at her, his eyes slightly glassy from the mixture of painkillers and the pain itself. She was grateful that the wound wasn’t festering with infection, but she knew that the risk of him reopening it was still high.

“I’m fine.” Jorah grunted weakly and unconvincingly, making her cock an eyebrow at him skeptically.

“No, you need to rest Jorah.” Pushing the hair back from his forehead, she kissed his cheek and sat on the edge of the bed, her hand searching for his and holding it.

“Maester’s orders?” Narrowing his eyes at her almost playfully, he ran his thumb over her knuckles.

“Nope. Your wife’s orders.” He huffed a chuckle at that and brought her hand up so he could gently kiss the back of it before letting their joined hands fall back onto the bed next to him.

“Hmm...that’s serious then huh?” His words were slurring, the milk of the poppy’s effect starting to really kick in.

“Indeed.” She giggled, kissing the tip of his nose and looking down into his endless blue eyes in adoration. Daenerys was so happy that he was ultimately going to be okay and that he was safely back at her side.

“And Jorah?” She questioned, gaining his attention and earning a soft hum in return. “If you open up the stitching, I’ll have to cauterize it with dragonfire.”

Jorah looked at her in total confusion and shook his head slowly.

“Dragonfire? Where would you get dragons?” His voice sounded like he was drunk and his mind seemed to running slower than normal, pausing between every other word as he tried to remember what he was saying. It made her realize why he didn’t like drinking milk of the poppy if this was what it did to him.

“Oh you don’t know? I’ve got three of them.” Daenerys giggled at his goggle eyed expression that morphed into one of disbelief as he raised his eyebrows at her.

“Three?”

“Yes, I’ve got Rhaegal, Viserion and...” She paused and watched the way he stared at her in fascination. “And Joragon.”

“Huh...I didn’t know. What are they like?” His eyes started to close as sleep threatened to take him.

Daenerys smiled tenderly and played along with her joke, at least until he fell asleep.

“Well, Rhaegal is a kind-hearted green dragon while Viserion...he’s almost a golden color and looks up to his brothers.” He hummed curiously at her words, his eyes having shut but wanting her to know that he was still listening.

“And Joragon?”

“Joragon...well he’s the biggest of the three, the most fierce and protective. He’s a majestic and awe inspiring dragon with a big heart, even if he tries to act scary. His scales shine blacker than the night sky.” She fabricated and saw how his lips quirked up slightly.

“Which one is your favorite?” Jorah murmured quietly, sleep closing in on him.

She chuckled and kissed him on the lips.

“I love them all, but secretly I love Joragon a little more.”

“Why?”

“Maybe it’s because I get to ride him and he loves me the most.” Daenerys was sure that, in his state, he wouldn’t pick up on her hidden meaning, but when his breathing leveled off, she placed another soft kiss on his forehead and went to check on Rhaella.

\-----

Jorah awoke the next morning, feeling groggy and his hip sending flares of pain whenever he moved it.

Lifting the blanked from his waist, he unwrapped the bandages that covered his wound and checked it over. He saw that it was healing nicely and rewrapped it carefully.

He noted that Daenerys wasn’t in bed next to him, so he assumed that it was later in the morning, likely breakfast, and forced himself out of the bed. Feet landing on the bear fur rug that adorned the floor next to the bed, Jorah pushed his achy body up and caught himself on the bedside table when he stumbled.

His eyes landed on the cup that had held the milk of the poppy that the maester must have given him, the white remnants of the liquid beading in the bottom of the cup and he glared at it.

_That’s why I feel like shit. _

Suddenly a trio of dragons rushed to the forefront of his mind and he couldn’t explain _why._

Shaking his head, he pushed away from the table and limped out of the bedroom, heading to the dining area as his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in a couple of days.

Entering the room, he saw the way that everyone’s eyes were drawn to him almost instantly.

Daenerys stood up quickly, Rhaella held in her arms, and she came over to him, worry covering her face.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed Jorah. You’re still healing.” She chastised him softly, trying to corral him back towards the bedroom, but he just kissed her, then Rhaella.

“Oh no Ser, you are not sweet talking your way out of this.” Daenerys looked at him as fiercely as her sigil and he relented, following her back to the bedroom, his leg aching with every step.

After settling Rhaella into the cradle, Daenerys made her way over to her husband and ensured that he was comfortably settled into the bed before returning his kiss from earlier.

“You truly are my fierce dragon aren’t you?” He joked lightly, earning a huff from her.

“And you are my stubborn bear.” She volleyed back and cupped his beard covered cheek with her hand for a moment.

Grabbing Rhaella from her bed, Daenerys handed their daughter over to her father, hoping that having his baby girl in his arms would convince him to stay in bed.

After seeing that Jorah was focused on his daughter, Daenerys left the room to gather him a plate of food.

Missandei joined her to help, a smile on her face as they hefted the wooden tray up from the table and started making their way back to the Lord’s chambers.

“Have you convinced your Lord Husband to remain in his bed until he has recovered Princess?” Daenerys’ friend asked, her voice betraying her amusement.

“I believe so. He can just be so stubborn sometimes.” Daenerys snorted, looking over at her friend when she giggled.

“As are you Princess. You two are just meant for one another I suppose.” Missandei said as a joke, but the latter half of her statement rang true in the Princess’ head.

It had amazed her at first, how quickly her and Jorah had clicked together. She had never felt really comfortable around the men that had filled the halls of the Red Keep, all of them felt false to her. Their words ringing hollow in her ears as they tried to flatter her and earn her favor.

But not Jorah.

He had been blunt and to the point with her. Not showering her with false pleasantries and flowery words like all the others.

He was her knight in shining armor, even when his plating didn’t shine as prettily as the other knights in her brother’s retinue.

Sure, Bear Island wasn’t anything like King’s Landing or Dragonstone, but it felt more like _home _than either of the places she had spent time at as a child had.

“I think you are right Missy. I just hope he doesn’t run himself into an early grave.” Catching her handmaiden’s gaze out of the corner of her eye, Daenerys cocked an eyebrow at her thoughtful stare.

“You really do love him don’t you?” Her question sounded more like a statement, like it was something that had been carved in the stone yet she was seeing it for the first time.

“I do. And honestly...it scares me.” Their conversation ended abruptly when they reached their destination.

Walking in side by side, Daenerys met Jorah’s eyes with a tender smile, watching as he tickled Rhaella who was lying on her back in his lap, the girl shrieking in laughter whenever his fingers tapped against her.

She placed the tray with the food on the bedside table before leaning forward and kissing him softly, his beard tickling her own face.

“I dare say you need a trim my bear.” Daenerys teased her husband as she stepped back so she could pass him the plate she brought him.

He thanked her and took the food from her in exchange for their daughter, whom Daenerys placed into the cradle so she could nap.

When she turned back around, she noticed the disgruntled look on his face as he watched Missandei pour him a tankard of ale and hand it over to him.

“Thank you Missandei. You don’t need to do that though.” Jorah accepted the tankard and took a drink from it, placing it on the table next to him.

“You’re injured Ser and need to recover. No one can get by in this world without help, not even you.” She told him gently, seeing the way his shoulders drooped slightly as he gave in without a fight.

\----

Jorah was more willing to accept help afterwards, though he still struggled when Daenerys insisted on nearly babying him.

She brought him his meals and refilled his cup whenever it was empty.

Whenever he needed to empty his bladder, she would walk with him to ensure that he didn’t hurt himself and it wasn’t until he insisted that he was _fine _that she started to let up a little bit.

A few times, he had thought to tell her to stop being like a mother-hen, but then he would look into her worried violet eyes and realize she was only doing it because she cared for him and couldn’t stand seeing him struggling or in pain, and he would drop it before the words could form.

But the moment that she came to him, right after he had climbed out of the small wooden tub from his first bath since the battle, with a small blade in her hand and a shy yet determined smile on her face, Jorah was on high alert.

“You planning on slitting my throat with that thing?” He joked lightly as he dried off, patting the drying cloth carefully around his still healing wound.

Daenerys huffed and shook her head, her glittering eyes betraying her amusement.

“No. You do need a trim though my sweet bear.” Still holding the sharp blade in one hand, she placed her free hand on his hairy chest, her fingers playing with the light blonde-ginger hairs that covered his upper body.

Her eyes wandered down his lean torso then pausing on his manhood, her gaze filling with desire before she shook her head as she reminded herself that he was still healing and it wouldn’t do to reopen his wounds.

She met his amused eyes, a slight blush dusting her cheeks at being caught staring, but Daenerys wasn’t ashamed in her desire for him.

“Alright, fine.” Jorah held his hand out for her to give him the blade, but when she shook her head and motioned for him to sit down on the nearby stool, he cocked an eyebrow at her curiously.

“May I? I promise I won’t slit your throat.” Daenerys giggled sweetly and watched as he sighed before doing as she asked

“Just...don’t press down too hard.” He said with a sense of trepidation lacing his voice.

Coming to stand behind him, Daenerys tilted his head back so it rested against her chest. As she wet his cheeks, the realization on just _how _much he was trusting her made her heart skip a beat.

All it would take was a quick movement and she could kill him, yet he trusted her enough that he didn’t tense when she placed the sharp metal blade against his lower jaw and carefully moved it from his chin up towards his ear, shaving off some of the longer hairs.

She went slowly, silently afraid that if she went any faster then she would accidently cut him, but when she nicked him slightly and the small bead of blood welled up, Daenerys stared at it for a long moment.

“I-I’m sorry.” She apologized and glanced around them for something to blot up the blood, but he just grunted and met her eyes in amusement.

“Don’t be. It’s not uncommon and I end up nicking myself at least once every time I shave.” The earnest look on his face told her that he wasn’t just saying that to make her feel better, so after she wiped away the blood on his face, she finished trimming his beard before rubbing his face with the towel and taking a step back to look at her work with a smile.

“There! All better!” Daenerys grinned at him then closed the distance between them and kissed him.

Jorah pulled her against him, his broad, hairy chest pressed against the front of her northern dress as he kissed her back.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Daenerys pressed against him as their lips locked in a fierce battle. She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach his lips, normally she’d just stand on the tips of his boots, but seeing as he was still stark naked, she had to make due with climbing his tall frame the best she could.

Daenerys pulled back slightly, both for air and to tease him.

“Ser, I do think the ‘little bear’ wants some attention.” She tittered lightly, the feeling of his hard manhood pressed between them, her earlier thoughts of waiting until he was more healed shoved to the back of her mind when he growled deeply, his arms coming up behind her to sweep her off the floor and he carried her to their bed, depositing her on the feather mattress.

“Whatever are we going to do about it then?” Jorah’s fingers started to play with the ties on her dress, undoing the knots that kept the fabric together.

Daenerys said nothing, instead she giggled and helped him take her dress off, her hips raising from the bed as he pulled the heavy garment away from her body. Her eyes slipped shut when he settled himself between her spread thighs, his cock hot and pulsing against her bare stomach.

She didn’t know what she would do without him, nor did she understand how he had managed to worm his way into her heart so _fully _and _intensely._

But what she did know was that she wouldn’t change it for anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The line where Daenerys threatens to cauterize Jorah's wounds should he reopen them was inspired by @ToasTea.


	13. A Family's Journey

“Are you about ready love?”

Daenerys looked over at Jorah with a smile, seeing that he was holding their nearly year old daughter in his arms.

“I am.” Moving away from the bed where she had been packing her outfits and anything else she might need, she came to stand in front of her husband and baby girl, her hand brushing lightly over the girl’s silver hair.

“Good. I’ll get your trunk to the ship and then we can set off.” He handed Rhaella over to Daenerys before putting on the small hat in his hands on his daughter’s head, placing a kiss on her cheek then one on his wife’s.

As soon as her father’s back was turned, Rhaella was ripping the hat off and tossing it to the floor with a glower that was distinctly Mormont.

Jorah picked up Daenerys’ travel chest and hefted it onto his shoulder and turned back around, his smiled dropping into a frown when he noted that the hat was on the ground. Picking it back up, he replaced it on Rhaella’s head, ensuring that it was snug and would keep her tiny ears warm in the cold spring air.

He patted her on the head and left to place Daenerys’ trunk on the ship that would take them King’s Landing for the short visit with Rhaegar, since her brother had expressed that he wanted to meet his niece.

As she went to find Missandei, Daenerys had to tug the hat back down over her daughter’s head when her chubby little fingers came up to take it off again.

“Now Rhaella...you need to keep that on. It’s cold out.” Rhaella met her mother’s eyes curiously with her bright violet eyes, not quite understanding what she was saying.

Entering her friend’s quarters after knocking softly on the door, Daenerys smiled at Missandei brightly. Her friend was wearing the bear fur cloak that Jorah had gifted to her on her name day, much to the other woman’s surprise.

\---

_“Y-you didn’t need to get anything for me My Lord.” Missandei told him, her fingers running over the coarse yet strangely soft black fur on the cloak in awe. She had been perfectly fine wearing the fur-less cloak she received when she first arrived in the north._

_“It’s your name day Missandei and you are Daenerys’ best friend. I know it’s not much, but it’s practical and will keep you warmer than your other cloak.” Jorah had explained with that soft smile of his on his face, watching as she unfolded the garment that he had been working on for the past couple of weeks._

_“Thank you my Lord. I don’t deserve something as nice as this.” She had looked up at Jorah when he snorted and shook his head, a slight frown on his face._

_“You deserve this and much more Missandei. And I told you...call me Jorah.”_

_“Thank you...Jorah.” Missandei smiled brightly at him, coaxing a wider grin from the typically cold north man that showed his true colors._

_\--- _

“Are you excited to return home Princess?” Missandei asked when she entered the room and Daenerys chuckled softly.

“Bear Island in my home now Missy, but yes, I am looking forward to seeing King’s Landing and my brothers again.”

Together, she and Missandei walked down to the docks where Jorah was waiting for them.

Daenerys could tell that her husband was irritated by the way he held himself.

The source of his irritation?

His young cousin Dacey was stomping her feet in front of him, her hands on her hips as she growled at him.

As they came closer, they could overhear their conversation and Daenerys found herself smiling in amusement.

“...just come anyways! You didn’t know I had followed you last time.” Dacey shot at him, her bright blue eyes flaring with the stubbornness that Mormonts are well known for.

Jorah sighed and shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Dacey...you need to stay here.” Jorah argued, giving his aunt a look that nearly begged her for backup, but Maege just shrugged her shoulders indifferently.

“Why?” Dacey asked with a heavy frown, her lips pursed in annoyance at his annoyance with her.

“Because...you’re needed here.” Jorah sighed, meeting Daenerys’ gaze when she finally came to stand next to him.

“Why?” The nine year old girl questioned, tilting her head at him almost mockingly.

The Lord of Bear Island groaned and ran his hand over his face to try and calm his temper before meeting his young cousin’s sparkling eyes.

“Because you are.”

“Why?”

Jorah stared at her for a long, long while then sighed deeply, he muttered something under his breath while he shook his head.

“What did you say? I couldn’t hear you?” Dacey asked, a huge grin on her face.

“I said fine. You can come as long as your mother agrees.” Jorah grumbled, then grunted when she threw her arms around his waist happily.

“Can I Mother?” Dacey already knew that her mother would agree, but she squealed excitedly when Maege nodded in agreement, obviously pleased to let her rambunctious child go with her nephew to King’s Landing.

“Just behave yourself Dacey. Listen to your cousin alright?” And even though Dacey nodded and promised that she would listen, Jorah knew that it was only a matter of time before the girl started reverting back to her snarky, independent self.

With a heavy set frown, Jorah met Daenerys’ eyes in exasperation, though the lines on his face softened when his wife came up to stand next to him, their daughter reaching her arms out for him to grab her.

Which he happily did, lifting her high into the air and spinning around twice, Rhaella squealing out in excitement before he settled her against his shoulder comfortably.

“You’re going to spoil that girl rotten Jorah.” Maege said in disapproval, shaking her head with an amused smile on her face

She didn’t begrudge her nephew for how he treated his daughter like a princess, not after she had seen the way he grieved for the babes that he lost with his first wife. She had never lost a babe herself, so she couldn’t say she fully understood the pain that Jorah underwent when he buried the three small bundles way before their times, none of them having drawn a single breath.

Jorah just grunted at his aunt, shrugging his shoulders then turned his attention on the little girl who was hiding her face in the bear fur on his cloak.

“We’ll be back before the new moon, I entrust Bear Island to you until our return.” For a moment, gone was the giddy father who loved luring out smiles from the two girls he adored and in his place was the gruff Lord Mormont of Bear Island.

“And here I will stand and watch over matters to make our house proud.” Maege replied back, just as formally, only cracking a smile when he did.

To many of the other houses, even the ones in the north, Mormont’s were known for their long silences and withering glowers, but here at home, sitting around the heart or seeing kin off, they weren’t much different than anybody else, although they were perhaps closer than other houses, being as they were a small one.

With that, Jorah followed Daenerys onto the ship that would take them down around the southern edge of Dorne and up to the port in King’s Landing.

It would take them a fortnight to make the trip, longer if the winds weren’t favorable.

Daenerys was more than happy to spend the mornings watching her husband work on the deck, his lean muscles rippling as he helped hoist the sails, sweat trailing down his back as the temperature increased the further south they sailed.

She wanted to run her hands over his hairy chest and across his strong frame, but the ship was only so big and if they made love, everyone would be able to hear and she wasn’t quite up for the knowing looks she would receive afterwards from the other Bear Islanders.

She couldn’t wait until they got back onto the mainland as she was _ravenous _for her bear and nothing would stop her from taking him once they were in the Red Keep where there were less people that would be likely to overhear them.


	14. A Wife's Love

Daenerys had forgotten how _massive _King’s Landing was.

The towers stood taller than the trees on Bear Island and the houses seemed to sprawl across a larger distance then the entirety of her new home.

As they docked in the port, the ship rocking back and forth as they anchored to the docks, Daenerys glanced at all the people that had gathered around, eager to see their Princess after her year long absence and she was thrown off by how many there were, having gotten used to being able to walk a long distance without seeing another living person.

She walked side by side with Jorah down to where her brother, King Rhaegar, was waiting for her with a wide smile.

Handing Rhaella over to Jorah, Daenerys ran to her brother, throwing her arms around his neck and laughing as he spun her around.

“It’s good to see you Dany. You look well.” Rhaegar said, patting down her unruly hair with a strange look on his face.

“As do you brother.” She took a step back and rested her hand on the pommel of her sword, noticing the way that her brother’s gaze dropped down to the weapon with a slight frown.

Before he could say anything, Viserys come forward and gave her a once over then glared over at Jorah.

“You’ve turned into a...northerner.” Viserys spat out with disgust, his violet eyes meeting his sister’s. “Do you fuck wolves now?”

He blinked once then shook his head slowly, a frown plastered on his face and edited his question as he realized his mistake.

“No, bears. You fuck bears now?”

Daenerys rolled her eyes and went to stand next to her husband, grabbing their daughter from him and settling her against her hip, the girl’s head resting on her fur-clad shoulder.

“Come now Dany. I want to meet my niece.” Rhaegar cut in, giving Viserys a look that told him to shut up, which only made Viserys angry.

Daenerys passed over Rhaella to Rhaegar, smiling when her brother’s face softened and he smiled widely, bopping her lightly on the nose.

“Her name is Rhaella. Rhaella Targaryen Mormont.” Daenerys told him with pride. She and Jorah had agreed to give their daughter both their family names after Jorah had insisted that she would be a Targaryen as Daenerys came from a more notable household and he from a minor house in the north that only _barely _could be considered a house. Daenerys had insisted that Rhaella would be a Mormont since Jorah was her father and a house was a house, major or minor didn’t matter to her.

So they settled on giving their daughter both, as well as any future children they have.

Viserys snorted and Rhaegar gave him another look before handing his sister back her daughter.

“Come, let’s head inside. We’ll have a feast prepared for your return.” Rhaegar told her, his dragon embroidered cloak fluttering behind him as he turned to lead them into the Red Keep.

Viserys and Daenerys followed him with Jorah, Missandei and Dacey trailing slightly behind them.

Jorah couldn’t help but notice all the looks he was getting from the people of King’s Landing, a mixture of curiosity and disbelief.

He met the gaze of a few of them, their questioning eyes silently asking how the Princess, Westeros’ most beautiful woman, had come to marry a man like _him._

A poor lord of a far northern house that gave nothing to the crown in way of lands or army.

For the first time since their marriage, Jorah wondered if he had been selfish in wanting to marry Daenerys when she could have had _anybody _else.

Someone with more money that could buy her all the pretty jewels she wanted.

Someone who had a name that most everyone in Westeros knew and was revered for being from a noble house.

Someone who was younger.

More comely.

Where she wouldn’t be stuffed way up north where it was so cold that even a few hours outside in the most biting winds could kill even the strongest people.

Missandei nudged him, pulling him out of his thoughts and he looked over at her curiously.

“Ignore them.” She said quietly, apparently having noticed his troubled look and correctly deduced what was bothering him.

He smiled at her and nodded, his eyes drifting over to Daenerys’ back.

She looked so happy.

Being back home with her family seemed to lighten her up in ways that Jorah hasn’t seen since he brought her home to Bear Island.

Her eyes sparkled and she grinned so widely that her eyes crinkled at the corners.

“Do you miss it Missandei?” Jorah spoke softly, his eyes fixed on his wife, but when she didn’t answer right away, he looked over at her inquisitively.

“What do you mean Ser?” Missandei asked, meeting his troubled blue eyes.

“Living here?” Jorah let his attention wander back to Daenerys, catching her gaze and smiling at her when she cocked an eyebrow at him in question. She was so far ahead of them that Jorah hoped she wouldn’t be able to hear his and Missandei’s conversation, but when Daenerys returned her attention to Rhaegar, Jorah knew that she wasn’t listening in.

“At first, yes. I did miss it.” Missandei told him honestly, touching his arm gently for a moment then clasped her hands in front of her as she continued.

“But then I got to see the beauty of the North and understand that not all northerners are cold, callous people. Now...” She looked at him, recalling all the times that he had shown that he was a kind-hearted, caring man.

“Now I don’t miss it at all.” She hummed and laughed softly as she finished with; “And I feel like, on Bear Island, I’m not looked down upon just because I’m a woman and it’s...liberating in a way.”

Jorah smiled gently and nodded once, his icy blue eyes shining with a warm emotion.

“We’re a little different on Bear Island I suppose.”

They entered the Red Keep and separated with the promise to meet back up at supper time.

Jorah followed Daenerys to her chambers and stood in the doorway, watching as she settled Rhaella onto the bed and took off her cloak, placing it on the back of her chair before turning to him.

“Gods it’s hot.” Daenerys complained lightly and Jorah laughed, entering the room fully and brushing back a lock of her hair.

“The last time we were here, you teased me for saying the same thing. Now you understand.” Jorah noticed the way her eyes glittered as she remembered the conversation in full clarity.

He remembered the way the crown of flowers that he had placed on her head, naming her his Queen of Love and Beauty, accentuated her eyes and the blue of her dress on that day.

“I do. Perhaps you need to remove a few layers to cool me down.” Pressing her hand against his chest, she fluttered her eyelashes at him and stepped closer to him.

“Perhaps I should...but I can’t.” Lightly grabbing her wrist, he removed it from him before he was tempted to do as she wanted him to.

“Why not?” Daenerys stepped back and glanced at him, her eyes betraying her hurt for a slight moment before she looked over at where their daughter was and understanding.

“What if I ask Missandei to watch her for a little bit?” She asked, biting her bottom lip seductively.

“Well then...perhaps then I’ll be obligated to please my Lady wife.”

Daenerys laughed, knowing that if she did get her friend to watch over Rhaella, she and Jorah might not make it in time for dinner, having got lost in each other’s bodies and passion.

“Mayhaps we should wait until later.” Daenerys conceded, taking a step away from him with a gentle smile, biting her bottom lip that told him of what would occur tonight.

“Hmm, I daresay you’re right.” Jorah chuckled, his eyes wandering over her body in appreciation and longing, but instead of pulling her over to him like he wanted to, he made his way over to the bed where Rhaella was sucking on her toes and picked her up.

“It’s odd you know.” She said in way of picking up the conversation and he looked at her.

“Being back here. I know that I’ve only been gone for about a year, but...it feels like it’s been longer than that.” Daenerys told him thoughtfully, coming over to stand next to him and run her fingers through her daughter’s soft hair.

“The last time you were here, you were a newly wed maid. Now...you’ve got a daughter and have been married for a year.” Jorah pointed out and she smiled, thinking on how much has changed since then.

Daenerys hadn’t missed the surprised looks on her brothers’ faces when they saw her on the docks. No longer was she the Princess that wore fancy and expensive dresses, but the woman who enjoyed the freedoms that Bear Island allowed women.

Yes, there were occasions that she would don a more expensive outfit, but those moments were few and far in between.

For her, family was more important than material goods and upholding the preconceived notions of what a ‘Princess’ has to be like.

The little moments shared with her good-kin were what she lived for.

Dacey’s eager grins as she told her about the animal that she had hunted all by herself.

Little Alysane’s giggles as she sat with her and Missandei, listening to Jorah regale them with some absurd fantasy story about knights, dragons and ice zombies.

Maege’s gruff remarks that made the other woman laugh at her own jokes until she stopped dead, her eyes growing wide as she cursed with the explanation that motherhood sure made one’s bladder prone to leaking at the worst of times, a comment that would have Daenerys giggling apologetically at the absurdness of it.

But more than that was the nights she spent curled up next to Jorah, her head resting on his chest as she listened to his heart beat strongly and rhythmically under her cheek.

_Badum_

_Badum_

_Badum _

Note after note of his life song playing in his chest and reminding her that he was alive and virile.

Reminding her that he was with her and he was _hers_.

On those nights, she would snuggle in closer and feel his strong arm wrap around her waist, holding her small frame against him and breathe in the scent of her hair, reminding her of a bear.

_Her Bear._

“Do you miss it here?” Jorah’s question broke through her reverie and she shook her head, her silver hair glistening in the warm spring sunlight and reflecting in a way that made her look like a goddess come down to earth, staggering the Mormont for a moment as she responded.

“No. Home isn’t really a place, but it resides with the people that you love and for me...that’s you.” She smiled broadly, her eyes tearing up slightly when she saw the way he was affected by her words, his blue eyes becoming watery.

“You and Rhaella. Missandei, Maege, Dacey, Alysane and Lyra. All of you are my home and King’s Landing...” Looking around at the heavily furnished room that had once been hers, the expensive curtains and the plush bed, the soft rugs that littered the floor and the intricately carved dresser and vanity, and she shook her head softly, her eyes meeting his.

“All of this is meaningless without you by my side.” Daenerys placed her hand on his chest, feeling his heart pounding under her fingers.

“The rich Lords of Westeros can keep all their shiny jewels and expensive cloths. All I need is a bear rug to make love on and my bear to share it with me.”

Jorah snorted gently, a bashful smile breaking out across his face, truly moved by her words.

Whatever Jorah was going to say was lost when Missandei knocked on the door, letting them know that supper was just about ready and Rhaegar wanted Daenerys’ presence.

Slipping her hand into Jorah’s free hand, the one that wasn’t holding Rhaella against his chest, Daenerys led him out of her room and followed Missandei to her brother’s solar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are still enjoying my story. It's been getting tougher and tougher finding time and the will to keep writing. I'm still trying at least to write a few sentences here and there when I can find some free time, but it's hard. I really do appreciate all the support and kind comments that you wonderful people leave, so thank you.


	15. The Lion's Mockery

Daenerys left her brother’s presence with a frown on her face after their brief talk.

When Missandei saw her displeased state, she made her way over to the Targaryen princess.

“Are you alright Dany?” With a slight pause, the girl glanced back at the Kingsguards that were following them closely before she continued. “What did your brother want?”

Rolling her eyes in a way that was un-princess like, Daenerys looked over at her lifelong friend.

“He told me that Lord Tywin Lannister and his children will be joining us for supper.” Daenerys explained with a huff, the knowledge settling in her gut and souring her mood.

“This is a problem Princess?” Missandei asked, raising an eyebrow at Daenerys curiously.

“I was hoping to spend time with just my brothers, not some Lord and his kids.” Her eyes softened when she saw Jorah holding Rhaella, teasing the girl by tickling her tummy and earning peals of laughter from their daughter.

His gaze was drawn to her almost immediately and he smiled at her, making his way to where she and Missandei were.

“Daenerys...” Jorah started to say, his voice betraying the affection he held for her, their daughter holding her chubby arms out towards her mother.

Jorah stopped when one of the Kingsguards stepped forward meaningfully, his harsh gaze fixed firmly on the Northern Lord, barely flicking down to the girl in the man’s arms that showed he was harmless at the moment.

“Watch your tongue. This is the Princess you are speaking to and she should be addressed as such.” Ser Allister Thorne growled at the Mormont, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword in warning.

“Last I knew, the Princess liked how I used my tongue with her.” Jorah sniped back, his voice nearly a growl and knowing that he should be more mindful about how he replied to the Kingsguard, but he was pissed off at the sheer audacity of this man, telling him how to speak to _his own _wife.

Ser Allister drew his sword then, the disgust at the man’s remark towards the princess written clearly on his face.

“Ser Allister that is enough. Ser Jorah is my husband and I will not have him harmed or I shall have your head.” Daenerys’ voice demanded respect and the Kingsguard blinked a few times before bowing his head in deference, sheathing his sword and taking a step back.

“My apologies Princess. I was unaware that he was your husband.” While the man apologized, Daenerys could see the judging look he was sending Jorah’s way.

“I thank you Ser Allister, but I will no longer need you to shadow me. You can return to guarding my brother.” Daenerys showed her displeasure with him and waved him away, her demeanor telling him that there was no room for argument in her decision.

Ser Allister Thorne bowed again and left them, his white cloak flowing behind him as he walked out of the room in a huff.

Once Thorne was gone, Daenerys turned to Jorah and cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Was that comment necessary?” Meeting his troubled blue eyes made her soften slightly. She was reminded that the last time he was here, he was uncomfortable and out of place within the capital and around the rich Lords that filled the halls of the Red Keep and King’s Landing.

“No...it wasn’t, but the way he was looking at me pissed me off.” Jorah conceded, dropping his eyes to the ground and relinquishing Rhaella when Daenerys came to grab her from him. It pained her, seeing himself so unsure of his worth, knowing that he was likely thinking that she deserved someone better than him, but she wasn’t having any of it.

“Ignore them Jorah. None of them matter. What does matter though is that I love you and you love me.” She reminded him and he lifted his gaze up to her with a soft smile.

“Aye, you are right Princess.”

\----

The golden haired boy that was seated across from her kept sending her looks that Daenerys had no want to decipher.

Glancing to her right, the Princess looked at her husband, noticing the tense way he held himself and knowing how uncomfortable he must be. Sitting with the King a few seats away and the Lion of Casterly Rock just across the table, Lord Tywin Lannister’s gaze flickering over the northern Lord with a mixture of disinterest and confusion.

It was safe to say that the atmosphere around the dinner table was tense and uncomfortable.

And it was only made more so when Tywin started up a conversation with King Rhaegar.

A conversation that Daenerys instantly knew was the Highborn Lord’s purpose in coming here in the first place.

“Your Grace, I’ve been thinking about my children.” The Lannister started, his lips dropping into a frown when Rhaegar cut him off with a quip.

“I would sure hope so my Lord, it would be a shame if you did not.”

The smallest of the Lannister children chuckled, only quieting when his sister elbowed him and gave him a look.

Tywin stared at the Targaryen King for a moment, having not found any humor in the statement before continuing.

“I was thinking it would be beneficial for us to negotiate a betrothal between our houses.” Tywin said and Rhaegar furrowed his eyebrows slightly, glancing to his left to where his wife, Elia, was seated.

“I’m afraid that Aegon and Rhaenys are still too young for marriage.” The eldest Targaryen glanced between the Lannister’s children.

The two eldest of Tywin’s children, Jaime and Cersei, were both 24 and the youngest, Tyrion, was just a few years younger than that, while his own daughter and son have yet to reach their sixteenth namedays.

“I wasn’t suggesting your children. You have two siblings do you not?” Tywin pointedly looked between Viserys and Daenerys, catching the Princess’ almost furious gaze for a moment before returning his eyes to the King.

“I thought perhaps Cersei could marry Prince Viserys or Jaime could wed the Princess.”

Daenerys glared at the Lord, reaching over and grabbing Jorah’s hand to calm her anger and keep him from speaking out. While she loved her husband dearly, he was simply unused to the games that the high lords play.

“I’m sure I could make you very happy Princess.” Jaime smiled at her, but she felt like he was forcing himself to do so.

“With all due respect _my Lord_, I’m already married.” Daenerys informed Tywin, but by the look that he shot in Jorah’s direction, she got the vague idea that he was thinking that the fact could easily be changed.

“I see. Well that’s a shame.” The Lannister intoned slowly, his attention returning to the king.

“While I appreciate the offer Lord Tywin, I will leave this decision to Viserys as to whether he wants to marry your daughter. Daenerys, as she said, is happily married already.” Rhaegar told him with an air of finality and the Lannister was obviously displeased with the outcome of his offer.

Throughout the remainder of the supper, Daenerys caught the eldest boy, Jaime, shooting his sister looks that told of a secret that only they knew about and she got the feeling that he only had eyes for his twin and she for him.

Although it was the first day that they were back in King’s Landing, Daenerys found that she was more than ready to go home.

She had forgotten how everything here seemed to revolve around politics and how best to secure your position as being better than everyone else.

\-----

Lord Tywin’s offer had been long forgotten within the next few days as Daenerys found herself wandering through King’s Landing’s streets with Missandei to her right, her best friend giggling in merriment.

Stalls with shiny, overpriced trinkets filled the dusty paths as the vendors called people over in the hopes of selling their wares.

With a quick glance behind her, Daenerys met Jorah’s gaze with a smile, watching as he bounced their nine month old daughter on his hip as she looked around in amazement, Dacey a few paces away from her older cousin.

Her brother was hosting a tournament, something that never failed to bring people into the city and boost the morale of the common people and lords alike.

Daenerys could never forget the last one that Rhaegar had hosted.

It was where she was charmed by the gruff northern newly knighted man that she happily married.

Jorah had insisted on participating, determined to crown her as the Queen of Love and Beauty once again, even though she told him that he needn’t worry about it since she knew that she was Queen of his heart.

Later that morning, shortly before the jousts were to begin, Jorah was checking to ensure that his armor was fitting right.

“Don’t worry love. I have no intention of losing.” He ran his knuckles down her cheek and pressed a kiss to her lips, noticing the worried glint she had in her eyes. He turned his attention to their daughter briefly, bopping her lightly on the nose and making her giggle.

“I’m not worried about you losing...or winning for that matter. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” Daenerys recalled the way he had bruised the last time, as each lance that glanced off him had hit hard and left a mark.

“I’ll be fine my love.” Kissing her one last time, Jorah patted the favor that she had tied around his arm, letting her know that his strength came from her. He readied his horse for the joust, watching his wife leave to find Missandei out of the corner of his eye.

Much like last time, the contestants came out and paraded around the ring before lining up in front of the king.

Daenerys found her seat next to Missandei and Dacey, and settled Rhaella onto her lap as she sat down, her gaze instantly drawn to Jorah.

Compared to the other knights and high born lords, Jorah stuck out in his unpolished northern armor astride his undecorated horse.

Much like last time, the people around her whispered and chuckled at the minor lord, wondering _how **he**_ had won over the Princess’ heart and received her hand. And again, Daenerys bristled in anger as they mocked him just because he came from a poor house that many of them had never even heard of, being so far north and being so small.

But Daenerys knew, House Mormont may be a small house, but they are strong and proud of who they are.

Jorah tilted on the fourth match, against Ser Boros Blount.

Ser Boros was one that Jorah had beaten the last time that they had jousted, yet Daenerys held her breath as the horses pounded nearer to one another. She tried not to flinch when Ser Boro’s lance rammed into Jorah’s side, jarring her husband on his seat.

When they both came out of it still seated upright, Daenerys let her breath out and held Rhaella closer to her chest, bouncing her knees to keep her daughter occupied and calm herself.

They tilted again and she felt Missandei grab onto her arm, with a quick glance over at her friend, Daenerys noticed that she was also on the edge of her seat with worry for Jorah.

For a brief moment, Daenerys smiled, grateful that her best friend and her husband had taken a liking to one another and didn’t seem to just force themselves to get along for her sake.

She returned to attention to the joust and flinched when she saw Ser Boro’s lance jab Jorah’s unarmored hip.

Part of her hoped that Jorah would fall, just so she wouldn’t have to sit back and watch him take blow after blow, even if he claimed that it was all for her. Just so he could re-crown her as his Queen of Love and Beauty.

So when, finally, on the forth go around, Ser Boro Blount fell from his horse, Daenerys let out a sigh of relief.

She watched the next few matches with little interest.

When Ser Jaime Lannister came out, many of the women in the audience called out for the golden lion, but his gaze slid over Daenerys and paused, smiling brightly at her in a way that would have made almost any other woman swoon.

But not her.

He was too clean shaven and...pretty for her tastes.

Daenerys knew what he was trying to do, but she wasn’t about to be flattered away from Jorah by some younger knight that kept giving his sister looks that spoke of bedroom activities.

It came to no one’s surprise when Jaime unhorsed his opponent and she frowned when he found her in the audience again, shooting her another smile before riding from the ring.

“I don’t like him.” Missandei seemed to speak Daenerys’ thoughts out loud and Daenerys hummed in agreement.

“Yeah, I don’t trust him one bit.” The Princess grumbled.

When Jorah came out the second time and managed to unhorse his opponent on the first run, Daenerys breathed out to try and calm her racing heart.

He found her in the audience and smiled at her, the whites of his teeth showing through his ginger-blond beard. Rhaella saw her papa and reached her chubby arms out for him, making a sad sound when he rode away without grabbing her and she looked up at her mother, her bottom lip trembling.

“Shh, it’s alright my little one. Your papa will be with you soon.” Daenerys cooed to her daughter, hoping that the girl would understand that her papa wasn’t ignoring her and that he would hold her once he was done.

The next time Jaime came out, Daenerys purposefully ignored him, turning to Missandei and Dacey instead.

“That man...Jaime, he wants you right?” Dacey asked Daenerys, causing her to snort.

“I think his father wants him to want me, so he’s trying to please his father by attempting to woo me.” Daenerys told the girl.

“And I think that the only woman he wants is his sister.” Missandei added with a soft voice, making sure that no one overheard her.

Neither of them argued with her on her observation.

Jorah came out for the third time and Rhaella reached her arms out towards him, grunting in annoyance when her mother wouldn’t relinquish her over to him.

His opponent this time was a knight by the name of Ser Willem Darry.

Round and round they went.

Three.

Four.

Five times.

One the sixth tilt, Ser Willem Darry’s lance hit Jorah hard, causing his upper body to twist and for him to lose his balance.

Daenerys winced as she watched her husband fall from his horse, landing heavily in the horse-trodden dirt with a grunt.

Pushing himself up off the ground, Jorah exchanged a few words with the man that had unhorsed him before heading back into the tent where all the other knights and lords were readying themselves for their next round.

Jorah joined them shortly afterwards in the stands, scooting past other people so he could sit next to his family.

Rhaella was the one who alerted them to his presence, grunting and straining in her mother’s hold as she practically threw herself into her father’s arms.

“Hey there sweetling.” Jorah pressed a kiss to his daughter’s forehead and smiled softly when she rested her head against his shoulder, hiding her face against his neck.

“You did good Jorah.” Dacey told him, grinning at him as she knew that her cousin likely thought the opposite.

“I lost.” He grunted, settling down next to Daenerys with a huff.

“I hope you know I don’t care for the crown Jorah. I’m honestly happy that you’re done.”

He looked at her skeptically for a moment before his eyes softened, knowing she was telling him truly.

“I know...I was just hoping to get it for you.”

“It’s the thought that counts. Besides, my last crown came with something better.” She smiled widely at him, resting her hand on his thigh.

“...It did?”

She chuckled and nodded. “It did.”

Leaning forward, she kissed his lips, feeling his scratchy beard tickling her face before pulling back to look at him.

“The best husband in the world.”

Her words made him smile.

And he smiled for the rest of the tournament, right up until the end.

Ser Jaime Lannister was crowned the champion and King Rhaegar handed him the crown of winter roses to give to his Queen of Love and Beauty.

So many women dreamed of having Ser Jaime place that flower crown on her head, but when he rode right up to Daenerys and placed it upon her head, all she felt was dread.

“My Queen, I hope you will accept this crown as you are Westeros’ most beautiful woman.” The Lannister knight told her and it sounded practiced and rehearsed to her.

“Thank you, kind knight.” Daenerys responded tightly, trying, but failing, to force a smile onto her face.

“Perhaps we could get to know one another. A stroll in the gardens maybe?”

Daenerys couldn’t believe the audacity of Ser Jaime. Her husband was seated right next to her and he felt it appropriate to flirt with her right in front of him?

“I’m sorry Ser, but I really must attend to my daughter.” She hoped that by bringing Rhaella into the conversation, the Lannister would be reminded of his place.

“Bring her along, I don’t mind.” Ser Jaime smiled tautly at her in a way that showed his discomfort over this whole situation.

“I think not. Thank you Ser for the crown, but I must really be going.” Daenerys stood up then, following Jorah out of the stands with Missandei and Dacey right behind her.

No one said anything until they were back in the Red Keep.

“Who does he think he is!?” Dacey exclaimed, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

“Trying to take you away from Jorah!? As if!” The young Mormont growled, much like her sigil and Daenerys found herself cracking a smile.

“He was making a fool out of me in front of everyone.” Jorah growled back, causing Rhaella to open her eyes and look up at him curiously. He was giving the crown on her head a look that, if looks could burn, her head would be a raging inferno.

Daenerys took the flower crown off, knowing that the only one she would ever want on her head would be one placed there by Jorah, and held it in her hands.

Everyone looked up to the door when it opened.

Rhaegar and Viserys came in with differing expressions.

While Rhaegar looked irked, Viserys had a huge grin on his face.

“Your Grace.” Jorah and Dacey bowed their heads in respect.

“I don’t know what the Lannister was trying to gain by doing that in front of everyone. Lord Tywin seems to think that he can gain power in the capital by marrying his children into the royal family and is urging his children to win you and Viserys over.” King Rhaegar huffed, taking the crown from Daenerys when she handed it over to him.

“Well, I don’t want it. And I don’t want him.” Daenerys was certain of that.

“Why not? I mean, he’s close to your age, all the girls want him, and he’s from a respectable house to top it off.” Viserys said, his eyes darting mockingly over to Jorah before landing back on his sister’s furious gaze.

“If he is so perfect, then why don’t _you _marry him Viserys?” Turning on her heel, Daenerys went over to Jorah and grabbed his free hand, leading him out of the room and away from Viserys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally got some time to write, though I'm not too sure I like this chapter too much. I got stuck part way through it and wasn't sure where to go with it. My outlines don't help me one bit (seriously, like I look at them and I literally have -King's Landing->Viserys is a jerk. Yeah, thanks past me for the helping hint. Or I have half written notes that, at the time I remembered what they meant but I don't now, with arrows drawn all over the place...I don't typically outline and this is why)
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed and I have a feeling that this King's Landing trip will be very short...like they will probably be heading back to Bear Island at the end of the next chapter unless I can come up with something else for them to do here.


	16. The Assassin's Blade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank forthebear for the idea left in the previous chapter's comments that fueled this chapter :)

Dinner the night after the joust was tense between everyone.

Rhaegar had debated about rescinding his invitation to Lord Tywin and his children, but in the end didn’t as he didn’t want to risk offending the Lord of Casterly Rock.

Ser Jaime couldn’t help but notice that Daenerys wasn’t wearing the crown any longer and that her husband, Ser Jorah, was glaring at him the entire dinner.

When they retired later, no one having said much throughout the meal, Missandei offered to take Rhaella for the night.

Handing over the silver haired girl to her friend, Daenerys thanked her and went into her shared quarters with Jorah.

It was still weird at times, seeing him in the room that she had mostly grown up in, but it felt right having him here with her.

_Perhaps one day I might convince him to visit Dragonstone_

Bolting the door shut behind her, Daenerys crossed the room over to him.

“Take off your armor. I want to check to make sure you’re alright.” She ordered him, seeing the way that he smirked at her words.

“I promise you, I’m fine love.” Jorah closed the distance between them, gently pushing her back towards the bed as it wasn’t lost on him that their daughter was with Missandei, leaving them alone for the evening.

“Jorah! I want to check you anyw-“ The remainder of her sentence was lost when he pressed his lips to hers. The back of her legs hit the edge of the bed and she sat down heavily on it, Jorah towering over her as he ran his fingers through her hair and kissed the top of her head.

She pushed him back so she could stand up, refusing to back down until she knew that he was unhurt.

He seemed to take the hint and removed his breastplate, the one that Ser Willem Darry had told him to keep after Jorah lost to him after the joust since he would have had no use for it anyways.

His shirt followed soon after and Daenerys winced at the large, dark bruises that covered his side and chest.

“These do not look like ‘fine’ Jorah. These look like they hurt.” Running her fingers lightly over the purple marks, she met his blue eyes worriedly.

“Like I said love, I’m fine. They will fade away given time.” He reached out for her then, pulling her against him and locking their lips together.

Daenerys fought against him for all of a millisecond, afraid that she would only hurt him, but the moment their lips met, she lost all reasoning behind why they shouldn’t proceed.

She let him lead her back to the bed as he slowly unbuttoned her dress, letting the garment fall to the floor forgotten. Her hands ran down the back of his breeches, her fingers digging into his muscled arse as she pulled him against her.

Jorah got her smallclothes off of her before lifting her off the floor and laying her gently on the bed. Kicking off his breeches, he crawled over her, settling himself into the cradle of her thighs.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Daenerys sucked his lower lip between her own as she raised her hips to meet his.

Not in a mood to tease her, Jorah wasted no time in getting her writhing and moaning beneath him, his lips running over her cheek and jaw.

When they were done, his seed and her wetness covered her inner thighs, but not caring that she’d be sticky in the morning, Daenerys curled up against Jorah, her head resting on his chest over his heart and let her eyes slip shut in content.

\-------

Daenerys slipped her hand into Jorah’s as they walked into Rhaegar’s chambers together, Ser Barristan shadowing the Princess after relaying to her the King’s summons.

Rhaegar looked over to them and smiled, lifting his arm up so his squire could finish buckling on his armor.

“What’s going on?” Daenerys eyed her brother warily, seeing him armoring up had her getting worried.

“Nothing for you to trouble yourself with Dany.” The King said and adjusted his sword belt around his hips before facing the couple fully. “I’ve arranged for a boar hunt. I was hoping that Ser Jorah would join us.”

Daenerys knew her husband well enough to know that he was surprised by this.

“I...of course Your Grace.” Jorah bowed his head slightly, his eyes dropping down to the ground in respect and Rhaegar closed the distance between them, placing his hand on the northern man’s shoulder.

“I’m glad.” King Rhaegar told him honestly with a grin. “It would be such a bore if I was stuck spending time alone with Lord Tywin and his son.”

Jorah couldn’t help the chuckle that rumbled through his chest.

“I’m afraid I’m not too interesting myself Your Grace.” He told Rhaegar humbly, glancing at Daenerys out of the corner of his eye when she squeezed his hand tightly.

\---

Jorah regretting agreeing to come along on the boar hunt almost immediately.

He knew that he shouldn’t have let the King convince him to join them.

“So, Ser Jorah...” Prince Viserys somehow made his name sound like an insult, scoffing at him as they walked through the trees as they searched for their target.

“You’re a bear right?” The crowned prince asked, his tone mocking and Jorah held himself back from saying something that would have gotten him in trouble.

But only barely.

“My sigil is a bear, yes.” Jorah conceded, turning his head away from the silver haired man as he insisted on walking by his side.

“So did your mother fuck a bear or something?” Viserys’ voice held a heaping pile of scorn, which caused Jorah to breathe deeply out his nose in annoyance.

“Of course she did. We Mormonts are skinchangers and mate with bears. It’s why we are so hairy.” Jorah told him halfheartedly, repeating an old adage that many a Mormont has told to nosy southerners that didn’t know when to mind their own business.

He missed the way that Viserys grimaced and quite frankly, Jorah didn’t give one fuck about what the prince thought about him.

“You know...she should have married me.”

He looked over at the Targaryen prince then, raising his eyebrows.

“Pardon me?”

“You heard what I said. Daenerys should have married me.” Viserys’ apparent disliking for him suddenly made a lot more sense to Jorah and he couldn’t help it when his hackles rose in anger, but he quickly fizzled the flare of fury away, returning to his icy demeanor.

“She should have married me and not some nobody like you.” Viserys continued, curling his lip up in disgust as he looked over the Bear Islander.

“Well maybe she wanted a real man and not some pissy boy like you.” Jorah growled at him, silently enjoying the way the prince’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth dropping open at Jorah’s audacity.

Jorah decided it was best to separate from the prince and fell to the back of the group, watching as Viserys stormed over to King Rhaegar and flail his arms around as he likely complained to his brother about what the mean northerner had said to him.

Jaime joined him and Jorah stopped himself from rolling his eyes in annoyance.

_Can’t I get a few moments alone?_

“Not many people would get away with insulting the crowned prince.” Jaime told him, a hint of laughter in his voice. Laughter that died when Jorah looked over at him with cold blue eyes that shone with irritation.

The Lannister shrugged his shoulders to show that he meant to ill will towards him, but Jorah was still pissed at him for crowning Daenerys his Queen of Love and Beauty.

“Then again, not many people would have the guts to insult him in the first place.” The golden haired man said with a smirk, unaffected by Jorah’s insistent glare.

The Mormont didn’t care to provide him with a response, yet it didn’t stop Jaime from continuing talking at him.

“I can’t see what the Princess sees in you, you know? Talking to you is as entertaining as fucking a porcupine.” Jaime chuckled and Jorah glared ever fiercer at him.

“You fuck a lot of porcupines then? No? I’m sure you’ve been too with your lioness.” The shell-shocked look on the Lannister’s face was enough to make Jorah’s lips quirk up in amusement as he sped his pace up, leaving Jaime behind.

Jorah wasn’t blind to the looks that the Lannister twins kept shooting each other. He had seen plenty of young couples that looked at each other much the same and it sent shivers down his spine seeing it between the two siblings.

He knew that Targaryens had married within the family to keep their bloodline pure and Westeros had turned a blind eye to it for generations, but there was just _something _about the whole practice that made him feel uncomfortable.

Unsure on how much time had passed since the young Lannister had left him, Jorah’s head shot up when the men ahead of him whooped in excitement. He caught a flash of a boar as it rushed away, squealing madly and in fear as the men gave chase.

Ser Gerold Hightower and Ser Arthur Dayne ran after the animal that their King had managed to stab once, followed closely by Tywin and Jaime Lannister.

Somehow, Jorah found himself alone with King Rhaegar, who stayed back and chuckled as he watched the other four trying to out maneuver the boar.

“You’re not going to go after it yourself Your Grace?” Jorah questioned, coming to stand by the King’s side, something that would have sent the Kingsguards into a fit as he was blatantly disregarding proper courtly behavior.

“No. I’ll let them have their fun. I drew first blood, they can take it out.” Rhaegar explained with a grin, resting his hand on his good-brother’s shoulder in a show of comradery.

Jorah was watching as Jaime threw himself at the boar, trying to stop it’s movements, but failed spectacularly and ended up tripping up Ser Dayne instead.

To the northerner, this was a time wasting spectacle. On Bear Island, they hunted bears, but only when the animals were becoming a problem to the people that co-inhabited the island. This boar was only being hunted for sport and very little more.

Yes, they would cook it up if they ever caught it and eat it for supper, but this hunt looked more like a game to Jorah and it didn’t settle well in his gut.

The choked sound from his side had Jorah looking over at the King questioningly, his eyes widening as he saw the man that had grabbed the Targaryen from the back and had his dagger pressed to his throat.

The strange man had a wild look in his eyes and he looked at Jorah like he thought that he wasn’t even worth his time.

Rhaegar wasn’t struggling, knowing that if he did, then the dagger would slice into his neck. Violet eyes met blue for a split second and widened slightly when the large northern man rushed them, slamming hard into the King’s armored body and knocking both Rhaegar and the assassin backwards onto the ground.

Not wasting the opportunity, Rhaegar rolled away from the other man, trying to push himself to his feet.

Jorah grappled with the assassin, blocking the frantic jabs and swinging limbs of the man as he tried to get Jorah off of him.

His head snapped to the side when the other man managed to punch him across the jaw with his fist, but that only seemed to piss Jorah off more. Jorah fought with him for a long while until he managed to knock the dagger out of his hand.

Grabbing the dagger, Jorah brought it across the would-be assassin’s throat, slicing into the man’s jugular. Stumbling back and away from the dying man, Jorah dropped the dagger and watched the life leave the other man before turning and looking at the King.

“You saved my life.” Rhaegar said, his eyes never leaving his sister’s husband even as the Kingsguard and the two Lannisters returned, having heard the scuffle and abandoning the boar.

“Your Grace...I should have been by your side...” Ser Gerold Hightower bowed his head deeply, his eyes shooting over to the dead man for a long moment, silently cursing himself for letting his guard down and allowing himself to assume that no harm would have come to the King while they were out.

“As should I and I hope that you shall forgive us for our lack of foresight Your Grace.” Ser Arthur Dayne added, his eyes drifting from the King over to the man that had saved Rhaegar.

The King waved his hand at their apologies, his attention focused on Jorah.

“Let us return to the capital. I’m not in the mood to continue the hunt.” King Rhaegar said and everyone agreed.

\-----

Daenerys entered the throne room, her mind already conjuring hundreds of possibilities as to why Rhaegar was calling her, none of them good.

She was expecting the worse.

Finding out that her brother had been gored by the boar that they had been hunting.

Jorah having been injured...

Or worse.

She imagined her husbanded gored by the boar, stabbed through the gut by Viserys, by Jaime.

She pictured him falling down a ravine, one that he hadn’t seen nor anticipated while chasing the boar.

So when she finally got to the throne room, Ser Barristan a few steps behind her, Daenerys audibly sighed in relief when she saw both her brother and husband were alive.

It took her a moment longer to register the blood that coated Jorah’s clothes and speckled his face.

Daenerys ran to her husband, courtly appearances be damned, and gripped onto his arms, her eyes skimming over his body in search of the cause of the blood.

“It’s not mine love.” Jorah’s gruff voice reassured her, gently touching her cheek, yet trying not to get blood on her pale skin.

“Then...whose?” Daenerys clung to him, not wanting to look away for a moment, still afraid that something was dreadfully wrong.

“An assassin’s.” Rhaegar told her, walking down from the throne to where his sister and good brother were standing.

Daenerys’ eyes went wide, shooting over to her husband in worry, but he shook his head gently, silently telling her that the assassin hadn’t been going for him.

“Ser Jorah saved my life. If it weren’t for him and his quick thinking...I would not be standing here right now.” Rhaegar’s voice echoed in the great hall and, for the first time, Daenerys could see respect in the kingsguard’s and Lord Tywin’s gazes as they glanced over at the northern lord, albeit it was a grudging respect in the latter’s eyes.

“I would be honored, Ser Jorah Mormont, if you would accept a position as a member of my kingsguard.”

Daenerys could see the outraged expression on Ser Alliser Thorne’s face at the offer, she knew that there was no open positions and there had only ever been seven kingsguards since the time of Aegon the Conqueror, but the man held his tongue.

As proud as she was for Jorah, she silently hoped that he would turn the position down.

If he accepted, they would have to stay in the capital and Daenerys was already starting to miss Bear Island and its tall green pines and rushing waterfalls.

“I’m honored, Your Grace, that you would offer me such a position, but I must respectably decline. I’m needed back home and...King’s Landing isn’t where I belong.” Jorah bowed his head in deference and her brother smiled with a nod.

“I figured you would decline. You’re a true north man. You can take a north man from the north, but you cannot take the north from the north man. If there is anything else I can do, please, let me know and I will see what I can do.” Rhaegar didn’t want Jorah’s act to go unrewarded.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Jorah was overwhelmed, unsure and almost unwilling to accept something for saving the man’s life.

After all, he was only doing what was right when the assassin had attacked the King.

He would have saved any one’s life out there in that position, nobleman, woman or peasant alike.

Once they were dismissed, Daenerys led Jorah back to their room, a soft smile blooming on her face when she noticed the steaming bath that was waiting for them, likely drawn on Rhaegar’s order.

Jorah stared at it for a moment, the concept that someone else would draw a bath for him was strange and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

But he quickly changed his mind as he undressed and slid into the warm water that he didn’t have to carry up from the river and heat up himself, with a sweet, thankful groan.

He groaned again, this one wasn’t caused by the heat that relaxed his tense muscles, but from his beautiful wife slipping into the water with him, settling herself onto his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” Her voice was a whisper, her violet eyes meeting his and showing him just how much she loved him.

“I’m fine Daenerys, and I’ll be even better when we are on a ship on our way home.” He grumbled, cupping her cheek gently in his palm.

She smirked, her hand dipping below the water with a giggle.

“Better than this?”

Jorah groaned again, her soft hand wrapping around his cock and stroking him.

“Careful love, you’re going to wake the bear...and he’ll get hungry.” Jorah rumbled seriously and Daenerys laughed.

“Oh, I am _very_ aware of what I’m doing.” She purred into his ear, grinning when she felt him shudder against her.


	17. A Mother's Memory

After the fortnight spent traveling from King’s Landing to Bear Island, Dacey was excited to show her mother the cool new weapon that the King had gifted to her.

Well...more like the new weapon that the King had given Jorah along with other weapons, armor, cloth, food and metal that was part of the reward for saving his life and Dacey had claimed for her own.

Jorah had insisted that he didn’t need anything in return for protecting him from the assassin, but Rhaegar hadn’t taken no for an answer and practically forced the resources onto the northern Lord as part of his thanks.

The second half came in the form of dealing with the Greyjoys. To ensure that the Krakens didn’t raid the shores of Bear Island, something that Daenerys had suggested after nearly an hour of Rhaegar and Jorah going back and forth on an acceptable reward.

Dacey had dug through all of their new stuff and had claimed the weapon as soon as she saw it and now was holding it up to show her mother.

“Look what I got!”

Maege looked at the well-crafted Morningstar with confusion, wondering where her daughter had gotten such an expensive weapon. Just from the looks of it, the steel weapon had come from the forges of King’s Landing and was _far _out of their budget.

She looked up as her nephew and his wife came into the keep hand in hand, Rhaella settled comfortably against Jorah’s hip and Missandei a few paces behind Daenerys.

“Ma! Did you see?” Dacey held the Morningstar up higher to ensure that her mother couldn’t miss it this time, but Maege frowned when she saw the chests of stuff that Jorah’s crew were bringing in for she knew that their coffers couldn’t handle too many unnecessary expenses.

“Ma!” Dacey pouted, bringing her mother’s attention back to her.

“I see. It’s a nice weapon. I’m sure it was expensive.” Maege grumbled, eyeing Jorah curiously as he ordered the men that had brought the chests in to place them in a spare room for the moment.

“It wasn’t though. The King gave us all of this stuff because Jorah saved his life from an assassin.” The twelve year old girl brightly told her mother, who looked at her in surprise.

Jorah came over to his aunt then, Rhaella bouncing on his hip happily and threading her fingers through his beard to pull.

“How were things? I assume nothing bad happened while I was gone?” Jorah tried to get the silver haired girl to let go of his beard as he greeted Maege.

“Everything was good. A fisherman noticed a ship without a banner hanging around, but it caused no trouble and left within a couple of days.” She told her nephew, who nodded then smiled when Maege tickled Rhaella which caused the girl to laugh joyously.

“You don’t suppose it could have been a Greyjoy ship?” Jorah eventually asked her and she shook her head.

“No. The kraken aren’t known for trying to hide their banners. They want us to know who are raping our women and pillaging our shores.” Maege said in derision.

“Aye, very true. Then perhaps a wildling ship?” Jorah knew that they have never seen a wildling manning a ship before, but it wouldn’t be smart to not put it out as an option.

Maege looked at him for a long while then sighed, shrugging her shoulders.

“I have no idea honestly. We’ll just have to keep an eye out and see if it comes back.” The older Mormont suggested and Jorah nodded, handing Rhaella over to Daenerys when she came over to them. “It’s good to have you all back. The keep was quiet without Dacey running around and you two going at it like...”

“Maege! I think some things are better off left unsaid.” Jorah grumbled, rubbing his hand over his jaw as his face turned a deep shade of red.

His aunt just cackled and patted Daenerys’ arm gently, grinning at the matching pink of the Targaryen’s cheeks.

“Besides, I know you’ve likely gotten up to trouble yourself while we were gone.” Jorah shot back, raising his eyebrow at the way she just smirked in response before wandering off.

\----

Not even a couples moons later, Jorah stared at his aunt unimpressed.

“You planning on marrying the father of this child?” He asked Maege who shook her head and ran her hand over her slightly swollen belly.

“Nah, I didn’t marry the other ones, why should I marry this one?” His aunt laughed, seeing so much of Jorah’s father in him in this moment. She knew that Jeor had never approved of her unwillingness to marry the men that impregnated her, but Maege knew she didn’t need a man to raise her children up, nor would she ever defer to a husband like he would want her to.

Lord Mormont sighed and looked at her.

“You do know who the father is right?”

She smirked, Jorah frowned.

“Aye, he was a big one. All black and brown and covered in hair.” Maege teased and Jorah knew that he wasn’t going to get any solid answer from her, so he rolled his eyes and glanced over to Daenerys when she giggled.

“I suppose there’s going to be quite a few babes crawling around soon.” Daenerys told him, running her hand comfortingly across his back. He blinked at her, his eyes growing wide when she smiled brightly at him and grabbed his hand, resting it on her own belly.

“You’re...Are you...?” He turned towards her, seeing the glow of her cheeks as she beamed happily at him.

“I am.” She stated simply, tittering as he picked her up and spun her around twice, his lips searching for hers as he placed her back on her feet.

He covered her face with kisses, laughter filling his chest as it settled within him that he was going to be a father again, that Rhaella was going to have a little brother or sister.

“Don’t be getting onto me for becoming pregnant when you’ve obviously been up to the same thing Jorah.” Maege teased him, brushing off the annoyed glance her nephew shot her, her dark eyes glittering lightly.

Patting her nephew’s arm as softly as one such as Maege could, she smiled at the flustered yet excited look on Jorah’s face.

“Daenerys is right though. Mormont Keep is going to be full of little ones crawling around at this rate. Perhaps this time one of us will end up with a little boy.” Maege said, though she knew that either way, boy or girl, each Mormont child would be loved something fiercely.

\-----

“Where are we going?” Daenerys questioned her husband as she carefully followed him up an embankment, the large stones threatening to shift and give way underneath her feet. Jorah walked up the rocky path without problem, a testament to his being a native to the island while she struggled to keep her footing, though with her small hand gripped firmly in his, she knew she had nothing to fear.

“Someplace that I never brought my first wife.” Jorah said and she took a moment to tear her eyes away from her feet to look at him in surprise. Daenerys had no idea what to expect from the journey, but the knowledge that he was bringing _her _there...a place that he hadn’t brought the woman he spent ten years married to...it settled a strange flutter in her stomach and heart, making her smile gently at him.

They climbed higher up what felt like a mountain, the spring air seemed to become colder, more brisk as they walked on. The overwhelming scent of the pines enveloped Daenerys in a chilly mist that was caused by the falling water of the river.

Whatever Daenerys had imagined was far from the sight she beheld upon reaching the top of the hill.

There were large carved bears scattered over the landscape, carved from wood or stone and stood on either two or four legs. It was odd she thought, having all of these various sculptures so far away from the main area of the island...as if this place was hidden away from everyone.

Daenerys also couldn’t explain the sense of wonderment and benevolence that washed over her as they walked further into the forest of carved bears.

“What is this place?” She whispered to Jorah for some reason unknown to her other than the mystical aura she was getting.

“Each bear marks a grave where each Mormont is laid to rest after their death.” Jorah told him, speaking at a normal level as he ran his hand slowly over the nose of one of the bears, one that looked newer than many of the others, but still had a worn look to the wood.

Daenerys came over to his side and looked up at the tall, imposing carving of the snarling bear that Jorah was standing next to. She looked at her husband, resting her hand on his arm and leaned against him.

“Whose is this one?” She asked softly, noting that his expression had become wistful but he smiled gently when he turned his head to her.

“My grandfather, Jasper Mormont.” He said, stepping back from the bear and bowing his head in respect even though he rarely prayed to the old gods any more.

“He died when I was quite young, I had barely reached my forth name day when he passed from an illness that struck him quickly.” Jorah continued to tell her then continued to wander farther into the field of bears to one that looked like it was the most recently carved grave marker that stood alone on the very edge of the clearing.

Jorah dropped to his knees then, resting one hand against the belly of the smaller sized bear, the carving of the figure showed the care and love that had gone into it. He let his eyes drift shut and he barely moved when Daenerys came to sit next to him, resting her hand on his shoulder softly as he spoke to the old gods.

For as long as Daenerys had known Jorah, she had never once seen him pray or ask the old gods for a thing, but she could tell that, for whomever this bear belonged to, Jorah found it necessary to do so.

When he opened his eyes back up and looked over at her, settling down on the ground more comfortably and opening his arms for her to crawl into, Jorah sighed contently once Daenerys was pressed happily against his chest with her arms wrapped around his waist and her head lying on his shoulder.

“This one is my mother’s.” He told her without her asking, his voice quiet and she waited for him to offer anything else, not wanting to push him into talking about her if he didn’t want to.

“She died shortly after my ninth name day...during an Ironborn raid. She was protecting me from the Ironborn and they killed her. They slaughtered her for fighting back in a mother’s rage.” Jorah held her tighter, his hand coming to rest upon her belly where their child was growing within her.

Daenerys didn’t say anything, unsure what she would even say if she did. She felt that her condolences for his loss would have been somewhat unwelcome or simply brushed off since she had died a long time ago.

“She would have loved you.” Jorah said and Daenerys smiled against his chest, her hand coming up to grip onto his over her stomach.

“What was her name?” She eventually asked, tilting her head up to glance at the wooden bear carving, silently wondering if Jorah’s mother would have truly loved her and would have been happy to see her son married to her.

Jorah was silent for a long time, so long that Daenerys assumed that he wasn’t going to answer her, but he shifted and pressed a kiss to her temple with a soft sigh.

“Elena. She didn’t have a family name...or if she did, she couldn’t remember it.” He answered almost breathily and it gave Daenerys a distinct feeling that it was the first time since her death that her name has been spoken.

She felt special in that moment, knowing that Jorah trusted her and loved her enough to open up about his mother.

To everyone else, the Bear Islanders are a cold and distant bunch, she was guilty of thinking the same before she married Jorah and really got to know them all and she wasn’t surprised to find out that they were no different than any other family in Westeros.

_But no...that’s not right. _She thought, tilting her head up to look at her gruff yet sweet husband, a man who didn’t think less of a woman because she wasn’t a man, a way of thinking that wasn’t common in any other family in Westeros.

“Tell me about her?” Daenerys asked softly, rubbing her thumb over his hand affectionately.

Jorah shifted her in his arms, settling his chin on the top of her head and engulfing her in his broad grasp.

“She was a free spirit. She would dance barefoot in the river, not caring if her dress got wet or muddy, the song she was singing drifting through the pines as the birds sang alongside her.” He trailed off for a moment, seemingly getting lost in the memories of a woman that had left him so long ago.

“We’d sit by the fire, I’d be on her lap and she would spin tales of knights and princesses, of dragons and heroes...”

_\------_

_“...together they flew in on dragons, a creature that had never been seen in Westeros before...”_

_“What are they like mama? The dragons?” Jorah sat on his mother’s lap, his head lifting up from her shoulder so he could meet her bright blue eyes curiously._

_“How’d I know that the dragons would be what broke your silence?” The blonde haired woman ruffled her son’s hair with a soft laugh. “Dragons were enormous creatures...”_

_“Enormous?” Jorah cut in, looking at her in confusion at the word._

_“Huge. Bigger than the tallest trees and wider than the keep. Dragons were so big that the Targaryens were able to ride on them...and they looked small on their mount’s back.”_

_“I’ve never seen a dragon.” The young boy furrowed his eyebrows, a gesture that his mother brushed away with a smile._

_“It’s because they’re all dead, long before you were born my little prince.” Elena kissed Jorah’s forehead and wrapped her arms tighter around her son._

_Jorah was silent for a long while as he listened to his mother tell him about how dragons looked. She noticed her son’s unusual silence and squeezed him slightly, rocking him back and forth, but before she could ask what was on his ever-curious mind, he tilted his head back to look up at her and spoke._

_“What happened to the Targaryens after the dragons all died?”_

_“Well...they lived on. King Aegon the fifth sits on the Iron Throne. I’ve heard that King Aegon’s son, Aerys, just had a little prince himself. Rhaegar or something like that.” She kissed the top of his head and rested her cheek on his hair. “The dragons may have been a big part of the Targaryen house, but they had to adapt and move on.”_

_“Why is their sigil still a dragon though...if all of them are dead?”_

_Elena chuckled and looked down at her cub’s curious and almost indignant face._

_“If all of the bears died...would you want to change our house sigil?” She questioned, a smile blooming on her face at the way he shook his head. “Neither did they. They wanted to remember their past.”_

_“But...surely there is still a dragon somewhere out there.” Jorah said argumentatively, his gaze slipping past his mother to where his father entered the room._

_“It’s unlikely. The closest thing that may still exist are petrified eggs.” Jeor told his son, his lip quirking up at the boy’s frown. _

_“I want a dragon for my nameday.” Jorah decided right then, seemingly ignoring the fact that he had been told twice that they were all dead._

_“Perhaps we could broker a deal with the Targaryens so you could have a dragon girl when you are older.” Elena suggested with a chuckle, her gaze meeting Jeor’s in amusement._

_“That would be the day huh? The Targaryens betrothing a daughter to the heir of a far off northern island.” Jeor and Elena both thought at the time that it would never happen, but were unaware that their son would one day do just that._

_Jorah looked between the two of them in confusion, not following what they were talking about._

_“You would like that wouldn’t you Jorah? To have a dragon girl?” Elena smiled at her son as his father patted his head affectionately._

_“Boy or girl...I don’t really care which as long as I have one.” Jorah told her with a grin, one that fell when she giggled and shook her head._

_“No, not an actual dragon dear. A Targaryen girl to marry.” Jorah’s curious expression dropped immediately to a grimace and he looked at her like she was crazy._

_“Gross, no way mama. I don’t want a girl like that. I just want a dragon.” Jeor picked his son up from Elena’s lap and set him down on his feet and started leading him to his room to ready him for bed._

_“I know you do Jorah, but one day you may want a girl. You will think she is the most beautiful thing in the entire world, even more so than a smelly old dragon.” Elena told her disbelieving son, helping him into his bed and tucking the blanket up to his chin before running her hand through his soft hair._

_“You’ll change your mind when you’re older my cub.” Jeor patted his son’s covered legs and met the boy’s blue gaze with an affectionate smile. He saw so much of his wife in their son, but was proud to see a lot of the Mormont look in him too. Jorah had his mother’s eyes and his father’s hair, everything else was a blend of the two._

_Jorah sighed and shook his head slightly, but then laughed when his mother pressed soft kisses all over his face, her hair tickling him._

_“One day my little one, you will find a girl whose hair glitters in the sun and moonlight and you’ll meet her eyes and the world will slow to a halt. It will seem like everyone around you vanishes and in that moment, you will know that she will become your world, your sun, moon and stars. When that happens...don’t you dare let her go and do everything you can to make her happy.”_

_Jorah stared at his mother, blue meeting blue, yet he didn’t understand what she meant by her words but nodded along anyways._

_\-----_

“I didn’t know what she meant at the time, being as young as I was...and I didn’t truly understand the feeling she had described...until I met you.” Jorah shifted his hold on Daenerys, settling her more comfortably in his arms and resting his hand on her stomach where their child was growing.

Daenerys grinned and buried her face into his neck, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“I...was already attracted to you when we met at Lannisport.” Daenerys confessed to him, hearing him grunt disbelievingly in response.

“It’s true! I remember seeing you when you and your father came to bend the knee to Rhaegar and...I had wanted to talk to you, but you left the next day so I never got the chance to.” She told him and met his eyes when he leaned back to look at her in surprise.

“I still wonder how I ever managed to attract your attention. I just considered myself to be blessed by the gods to have done so.” Jorah admitted, lips curling into a smile when she framed his face in her cold hands.

“You shouldn’t be so surprised Jorah. I feel like I was blessed for snatching up such a wonderful husband myself.” Daenerys grinned, running her thumbs over his cheekbones as she added: “I’m glad that I managed to get you away from that blonde woman.”

“Blonde woman?” He looked honestly confused as to who she was talking about and it made her giggle softly.

“Yes, the blonde woman that had given you her favor on the day that you jousted at Lannisport.”

He seemed to try and recall this woman, remembrance crossing his face moments later.

“Ah aye...her...Lynette Hightower or something like that.” Jorah shook his head then grabbed her wrists so he could move her hands off his face and kiss them. “She pales in comparison to your beauty my Princess.”

Daenerys couldn’t stop the wide grin that crossed over her face at his flattery, she always loved it when he showed how much he adored her.

“You do know how to charm me so, Ser.” Jorah chuckled at her words before helping her stand, brushing off the light dusting of snow and dirt that clung to her trousers.

“Come my love, let us return to the keep before you freeze.” Holding her hand in his, Jorah led her back down the rocky outcropping and back to Mormont Keep.

Daenerys knew what he had shown her was special and she would cherish the knowledge, of both the graveyard and the memory of his mother that he shared with her, until her last breath


	18. A Baby's Welcome

Even though his first wife had passed away eight years ago, she left Jorah with a fear that he knew he wasn’t likely to shake away for the rest of his life.

A fear that reared its ugly head every now and then, given how often his aunt got herself pregnant.

The echoed cries from the birthing room always had the hairs on the back of his neck raising and the bottom of his stomach dropping whenever they trailed off to that eerie silence that followed.

He could remember vividly the way his heart would lift when the cries eventually stopped and the midwife would come out to let him know whether he and his wife had a son or a daughter, but even more so he could recall the violent way his heart felt like it stopped, each time she came out with a morose expression on her face, silently letting him know that, again, the babe didn’t survive.

What pained him more, though he hadn’t loved his wife as well as she deserved, was the third and final time when he was informed that both mother and child hadn’t survived and it about knocked him right off his feet. It didn’t really settle in his mind that she was dead until later that night when he found himself alone in their marriage bed, the large bed seemed massive without Alys by his side.

“Ser, the Princess is strong.” Missandei brought him out of his dark thoughts, resting a hand gently on his forearm and giving him a knowing look.

He forced a smile onto his face and he was sure that it showed, so he sighed through his nose.

“Aye...I know she is. I just...” Jorah sighed again, shaking his head slightly and running his hand through his hair, betraying the nerves he felt for his wife.

Daenerys had been laboring since earlier the previous evening and _still _he hadn’t heard anything about her condition and it was starting to wear on his patience.

A few times, Maege had to stop him from trying to enter the birthing room so he could see his wife, each time telling him that he wouldn’t want to be in there and likely Daenerys wouldn’t want him in there being a nuisance.

“I’m...worried that it’s taking so long.” Jorah couldn’t bring himself to compare Daenerys’ labor to the labor that had taken Alys from him, but the thought kept returning with a nasty vengeance. He knew little to nothing about what happened within the birthing room.

“Sometimes it takes women longer to birth a babe and there is nothing wrong...the babe may just be stubborn like its Pa.” Maege said with a grin, patting her nephew’s shoulder lightly.

Jorah looked at her skeptically then nodded, figuring that she must know what she was talking about, seeing that she had already birthed three babes with her fourth close.

He turned on his chair to where Dacey was playing with the other girls, Rhaella’s laughter drifting across the room. The gentle sound of his daughter’s joy made Jorah smile softly and he debated about going over to where she was and join them.

But as soon as the idea crossed his mind, the midwife came in, blood staining her gown.

Jorah ran.

It wasn’t until he entered the birthing room, his chest heaving from panic and exertion and saw that Daenerys was seated on the bed and a small bundle suckled at her breasts that Jorah finally accepted that she was okay.

“Jorah...” Daenerys looked up at him, a tired, exhausted smile gracing her face as she beckoned him over.

Though he ran to the room like his and her life depended on it, he carefully made his way over to the bedside.

The babe that was swaddled in her arms was perfect in every sense of the word he thought and he was amazed that he had had a part in creating something so flawless.

“I-I hope you don’t mind...but I’ve already chosen a name for her.” Daenerys broke him out of his trance and his gaze raised to meet her shy one.

“We’ve got another daughter then?” Jorah’s lips lifted into a smile at the knowledge and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and running his finger over his daughter’s soft cheek. “Whatever you have chosen...I’m sure it is perfect.” He murmured gently, as if he were afraid that speaking any louder would bother the baby.

“I’m glad you say that.” Daenerys bit her lip slightly, glancing at him from under her eyelashes with a smile. “I want to name her Elaena.”

Jorah’s eyes snapped up to meet hers, his expression shocked.

He stared at her for a long while, tears welling up in his eyes as the significance of the name washed over him. She wanted to name their daughter after his mother.

“I-if you don’t like it...” She started, her eyes betraying the worry she felt that she had offended him in some way, but when he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers softly, Daenerys understood that he was just overwhelmed at the sentiment.

“I love it. Elaena Targaryen Mormont.” His tone was choked up and Daenerys reached out to grab his arms, carefully shifting their child over to him

There was just something that Daenerys loved about seeing this small baby in her tall husband’s hold. He was a formidable warrior and, on to the outside people, a cold, callous Lord, but he was the softest papa bear with his cubs.

Dacey and Missandei came in shortly later with the other girls in tow, holding Rhaella with a grin.

“So...do we have a baby boy cousin or a baby girl cousin?” Dacey asked, her eyes finding the bundle in her older cousin’s arms.

“You want to meet her? Her name is Elaena.” Jorah told them, a soft smile never leaving his face as he stared at the miracle in his hold.

Dacey giggled and handed Rhaella over to Missandei, who happily took the curious child, wondering what her Papa was holding.

Dacey and Alysane came over to check out their new baby cousin, cooing over how cute she was and asking if they could hold her.

“Where is your mother?” Jorah eventually asked, realizing that his aunt hadn’t come in with them. He handed Elaena over to Daenerys when the baby started to fuss.

“Oh, she went into labor and the midwives took her.” Dacey told him, laughing at the surprised expression that passed over his face. “I told her that if she hurried up and had the baby, then both babies could share the same nameday.”

Jorah snorted and ruffled his younger cousin’s hair, ignoring the way she swatted at him.

“Alright you girls, let’s leave Daenerys alone. She’s tired and doesn’t need all you little ruffians bothering her.” Jorah led his younger cousins out of the room, glancing back and seeing Missandei sitting by the edge of the bed with Daenerys, the two friends talking softly.

He returned and took Rhaella from Missandei and pressed a kiss to his wife’s sweaty forehead, brushing back her hair tenderly. She smiled up at him, gripping onto his hand for a moment and squeezing it tightly.

Daenerys knew she must look like a mess, all covered in sweat and blood from the afterbirth, bags underneath her eyes from laboring all night...yet Jorah looked at her like she was the Maiden come down to earth.

\------

In the end, both babes would share a nameday like Dacey had wanted.

Elaena was born early in the morning and Maege’s daughter, Jorelle, was born late into the night.

Jorah stood by his aunt’s bed, his eyes drawn to the light haired babe that was sleeping next to her.

“Mormont Keep will soon be overrun with women it seems.” Jorah joked lightly, brushing the babe’s soft hair gently.

“Aye...seems so.” Maege chuckled weakly, still tired from the birthing of her daughter.

They lapsed into a familiar silence, one that Maege broke shortly afterwards.

“She’s your namesake. I wanted to name her after her wonderful cousin...” Jorah looked up at her in shock, having noticed the similarity in their names, but he hadn’t quite made the connection yet.

“Her wonderful cousin that I hope will never arrange for her or her sisters to marry some Lord.” Maege finished with a chuckle and Jorah snorted, having realized there was an ulterior motive in the flattering act of naming her daughter after him, though he couldn’t stop the watery laugh that escaped his throat.

“Never. I swear.” Jorah rubbed at his eyes and cleared his throat, gripping onto Maege’s wrist firmly.

“You mean it?” She asked again, knowing that it was a Lord’s right to marry off members of his family to gain political power or to create alliances with other houses, but she didn’t want her daughters to be forced into a marriage that they didn’t want.

“I do. I love those girls dearly and would hate myself if my actions caused them any suffering...and I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be practically sold off all in the name of an alliance.” Jorah told her truly.

He remembered how awkward it had been when his father had arranged his and Alys’ marriage and he honestly wouldn’t want anyone else to be forced into the same situation.

Maege sighed in relief, the worry she had felt that Jorah would try and marry Dacey off having melted away. Her eldest daughter had recently started her moonblood and had shared her fears with her mother.

“So, are you going to write to your father and let him know about the little ones?” Maege questioned her nephew, smiling when he nodded in agreement.

“Aye, I am. He would be upset if I didn’t.” Jorah chuckled, amazed that the strained relationship with his father was better than it had been years before.

“Good. Tell him I had a son and named him Jeor Jr.” Maege said with a maniacal cackle, stopping Jorah right before he left the room to change her request. “No! Tell him I had another daughter and named her Jeor Jr.”

Jorah rolled his eyes and left his aunt alone with Jorelle to write the letter to his father.

\------

_Dear Father,_

_I am happy to be able to inform you that you have yet another niece, Jorelle. Maege wished for me to tell you her name was Jeor Jr. but I figured your old heart wouldn’t be able to withstand her jokes, so I opted out of doing so._

_Also, you have another granddaughter._

_Elaena Targaryen Mormont._

_Daenerys sends her love, as does Dacey, Alysane, Lyra and Rhaella. _

_Take care of yourself._

_Jorah._

_P.S. Elaena has mother’s eyes._

Jeor ran a hand through his beard, then over his eyes, wiping away the moisture that gathered there.

“You okay Lord Commander?”

Glancing up at the man that stood in front of him, the worried expression on his face made him chuckle.

“Aye. More than okay.” The Old Bear said with a rare smile, the word _granddaughter _ringing in his head like a bell and engulfing his heart entirely.

The Crow didn’t seem fully convinced, but had enough wits to not question the Lord Commander about it any further.

“Eyes. Eyes. Eyes.” The raven that sat on the windowsill cried out and Jeor looked over at it in shock, having never heard the little beast repeat that word before. He huffed off a soft laugh and nodded.

“Aye...she’s got her eyes. Her grandmother’s...and her father’s.” Jeor said with a smile.


	19. A Legend's Chill

The warm spring air echoed with the calls of the arctic gulls that had returned to Bear Island slowly since the start of the spring three years past. Today, the birds watched the group of people that were splashing around in the still ice cold river as if the temperature didn’t bother them one bit.

Jorah glanced down river where his wife was playing with their children and his cousins. Missandei sat on the river bank with her feet in the water and laughed as the younger girls enjoyed themselves.

Life had been peaceful these past four years and he enjoyed being able to watch his beautiful girls, all three of them, laugh and splash water at each other playfully, without a care in the world.

Rhaella, recently turned four years old, held her younger sister Elaena’s hand as they trudged through the shallow water where they played. Daenerys followed behind them closely, her fingers occasionally running through their messy locks, both silver haired liked their mother.

Lyra and Jorelle chased after their cousins with a laugh, the latter dragging her stuffed bear toy through the river even though he had insisted that she didn’t bring it in with her, but little Jory was adamant that her Beary would want to go for a swim too, so Jorah hadn’t argued with her.

“Jorah? The fish aren’t going to fly into your hands if you just stand there like a dead bear.” Dacey’s voice brought his attention back to what they were doing.

“We don’t have all day Jor.” Alysane chuckled and rolled her eyes at him before returning to her task of catching fish for tonight.

Jorah grumbled, knowing that they were only teasing him but it was enough to get him to focus at the task at hand.

It amazed him at times, to see how the once small girls he had known were growing up faster than he would have liked.

Dacey was growing into a formidable training partner, being as skilled at wielding her weapon of choice, her Morningstar, as she was graceful on the dancefloor. She could wear a dress or armor and be comfortable in either one.

Alysane, though she had put on some extra weight as she got older, was not someone Jorah would ever want to piss off as she held some great power behind her blows. So much so that the people of Bear Island had taken to calling her the “She Bear”, a moniker that she held with deep pride and reminded the older boys of Bear Island that she trained with that she was _not _to be underestimated.

Though the other girls were still quite young, Jorah and Maege had taken to easing them into their training. Testing the waters with them. He had told Daenerys, after seeing the reluctance on her face when he told her about wanting to start Rhaella’s and Elaena’s training, that he would _never _force either girl to fight if she didn’t want to walk down that path. That he was simply giving them the option to learn if they so pleased.

Of the four younger girls, only Lyra and Elaena seemed to enjoy their mock training sessions. Rhaella complained about how the training swords were too heavy while Jory seemed to be more interested in watching the other girls train. Jorah, true to his word, never pushed either girl into picking up a weapon and didn’t guilt them into even trying to like it.

He knew that not everyone was made for fighting. Some people enjoyed books or healing or smithing and that was alright. When he was a young boy, Jorah had found more enjoyment with his nose in a book, reading about history or legends, than he had when his father placed a blade in his hand and urged him to swing it.

Over time, he had come to be good at the blade, but he never relished in using it to end someone’s life.

And gods be good, he hoped that his daughters and his young cousins would never have to use their training for real.

Tossing a medium sized trout to the riverbank, Jorah watched it flop around for a few moments then startled when his hand was grabbed by something small and warm.

He looked down at met his daughter’s blue eyes curiously, his gaze drifting up to where Daenerys was watching them closely, to make sure that their youngest made it over to him and didn’t fall into the river as she would have been swept away by the current.

“Papa. It’s cold.” Elaena pulled his hand down, trying to either tug him down to her height or drag herself up to his.

“Is it now my cub?” Jorah bent over and hauled her up, settling her against his hip and smiling gently when she rested her head against his shoulder and soaked in his heat. Elaena nodded, her cheek pressed against the top part of his shoulder.

“That sure is one strange fish you’ve caught cousin.” Dacey teased, coming over to Jorah and ruffling his daughter’s hair affectionately.

“I’m not a fish. I’m a cub.” Elaena argued half-heartedly, her tone tired as her eyes slowly drooped shut. She had played all day and being in her papa’s strong and loving hold simply made her want to drift off to sleep.

“Aye, you are little one.” Pressing a kiss to her head, Jorah replied and shifted her slightly in his hold.

“You really love coddling your daughters don’t you Jor?” Dacey chuckled, her breaths coming out in little frozen puffs. She noticed it the same moment he did and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Not even an hour ago, it had been warm enough that even Daenerys and Missandei could leave the keep without bundling up in layers, so there should be no way that her breath should freeze as if it were the middle of the winter.

Sure, the Starks were always saying that ‘Winter is Coming’, but never does it arrive in less than an hour.

Alysane, having noticed the shift in tension, came closer to her sister’s side and looked between Dacey and Jorah curiously.

“What’s going on?” Aly questioned, rubbing at her arms to try and ward off some of the sudden cold air that slowly engulfed the area. Dacey looked at him, silently asking the same question and he slowly shook his head, his gaze drifting north.

“I’m not sure, but I don’t like whatever it is.” He murmured quietly and turned his attention to the others that were blissfully unaware of the tension that had befallen them.

“Gather the fish up and help get the little ones back to the keep.” Jorah spoke to Dacey with the authority of a Lord, his gaze sharp as he took control of the situation. She nodded seriously and with the help of Alysane, started to gather their catch from the day.

With another quick glance north, up to the land where only the wildlings lived, Jorah thought about the stories of undead he had read as a child and sent a shiver down his spine. Shaking his head to rid himself of the thought, he focused on gathering up the kids and getting them home safely, trying to ignore the way that the far edge of the Bay was frozen over.

“Come on. It’s time to get back to the keep.” Jorah said, anticipating the cries of refusal, but with a sharp look that was rare on his face, they all understood innately the severity of his words and refused no more.

Daenerys picked up Rhaella and held her close to her chest, even though the girl had grown considerably. Missandei held Jorelle in her arms while Lyra followed close behind.

Everyone was silent as they made their way back to the Keep, the kids because they could feel the tense air around the adults and the adults because they knew that whatever had happened back at the river was unnatural.

Once they entered the log longhall, everyone let out a collective sigh, the tension releasing and the kids returned to their excitable selves and ran off to play.

Jorah placed a kiss on both of his daughter’s heads before he let them take off, his gaze following them out of the room.

“What happened out there?” Missandei questioned Jorah, nervously rubbing her chilled hands together. She was an intelligent girl and had been able to read between the lines of Jorah’s outwardly calm composure.

Something had happened and it wasn’t good.

Jorah sighed and wrapped his arm around Daenerys when she came over to his side.

“I don’t know. I have a...theory, but it is outlandish and crazy.” He told them, catching Dacey’s questioning eyes for a moment before looking away.

Kissing Daenerys’ cheek, he released her and gave her a soft smile in an attempt to ease her apparent fears.

“I need to talk to my aunt first, but I’ll tell you later.” Jorah told her as she opened her mouth to ask him what his theory was and even though she was immensely curious, she nodded in understanding and linked arms with Missandei.

Jorah was certain that he was wrong, positive even.

As a young boy he had had a very rampant imagination and would concoct wild stories out of nothing, fueled by some story he had recently read, either on his own or with his mother while she was still alive.

Just the idea that the White Walkers were real, these undead beings with icy blue eyes and unnaturally white skin that summoned Winter wherever they travelled...it sounded crazy even to him.

They were nothing but an old folktale meant to scare children and young people.

So, when he told Maege about what had happened and brought them up, she only laughed at him.

“Really now Jorah, you’re as bad as the young girls sometimes. White Walkers?” Her chuckling started to die down as she met Jorah’s serious gaze. “It was probably just a southerly breeze from the north that brought down a pocket of cold air. There’s no need to be working yourself or the girls up over nothing.”

It made sense.

It really did.

But the logical answer just didn’t sit right in his gut.

“You’re right Aunt Maege. Maybe I’ve just been telling too many stories to the girls and my mind is defaulting to that.” He said with no conviction in his voice, but she seemed to be pleased that she got him to see beyond the unnatural.

He left her after that, his brows furrowing as he tried to work through her rational logic.

Sure, it could have just been a cold pocket from the north. Even though it is a warm spring here on Bear Island didn’t mean that farther north was the same.

But then...that didn’t explain the frozen bay, nor the distinct lack of a breeze.

He would have noticed if it had been windy at all, he had been staring at Daenerys only a few moments before and her long silver hair, hair that glittered beautifully in the sunlight and always drew his attention away from what he should be focusing on, hadn’t been blowing in any breeze.

Returning to his office, Jorah sat down on the chair at his desk, the ledger opened up to the most recent page from when he was working on it earlier.

His fingers ran over the dried ink, the numbers showing that the Island was doing well. Yes, they weren’t the richest house in Westeros...but they also weren’t the poorest. Overall, they were moderately wealthy and always had a steady income thanks to the export of fish and timber.

Pushing out thoughts about what had happened out at the river, Jorah dipped the quill into the ink pot and scratched out a few numbers, adding and subtracting expenses for a while before his mind started to wander again.

He smiled gently when he noticed that their coffers were higher than they had been at the start of the year, and even higher than when he had taken over the lordship from his father.

Yes, they may be a small house and they may not be the richest, but Bear Island was a tight and proud community that stood together and helped one another in times of need.

His hand fell to rest on the bear pommel of Longclaw, proud to say that he wielded one of the few Valyrian steel swords in Westeros.

Jorah recalled the conversation he had with his father many years ago, back when he was maybe twelve or thirteen, when he asked where the sword had come from.

Jeor hadn’t really known, only telling his son that it has been passed on from father to son for 500 years and that, one day, he would pass it on to Jorah, who would pass it on to his son.

The memory of his father sparked an idea in his head and he debated for a minute whether he should write Jeor about what had happened...or if he too would think him ridiculous for his thoughts.

If it had been four years ago, before Rhaella was born, Jorah wouldn’t have even _thought _about writing his father, but ever since the birth of his first child, he and his father had slowly mended the broken bond they had.

Jeor hasn’t visited since Rhaella’s birth, having been busy dealing with being the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch, but he had expressed his plans on coming down the first moment he gets some free time to meet his second grandchild.

Jorah fought himself internally for a minute longer before pulling out a blank parchment and penning his father a letter. Afterwards, he read it thrice before rolling it up and pouring melted wax onto the seam, pressing his signet ring into the red liquid and leaving behind the Mormont bear.

After it was dry, the wax turning hard and solid, he wondered if it would be a mistake in sending it, surely it would only tell his father that Jorah was bordering on insanity if he **actually **believed that a simple gust of freezing air was brought about by some old legend.

He was pulled out of his musings by soft fingers running up his back and wrapping around his shoulders, the fragrant scent of his wife wafting over his nose when she pressed her cheek to his.

She smelled of her flowery soap that she had brought back with her from King’s Landing, which told him that she had just bathed. Jorah leaned back into her embrace, feeling her fingers playing with the clasp on his cloak.

“You’ve been locked in here for quite some time my love.” Daenerys whispered into his ear, sending pleasurable shivers down his spine that warmed his stomach.

He hummed and let his eyes slip shut. “Aye. I’ve just been looking over the island’s money.” Jorah told her, his voice deep and slightly betraying the arousal she was bringing about with the way her hands trailed up his chest to his neck and back down.

“Uh hum, but surely there is something more enjoyable you could be doing?” Daenerys pressed a kiss to his cheek and stepped away from him, giggling when he grunted in disapproval at the distance she created between them.

Jorah turned in his chair to look back at his wife, his jaw dropping open and a bolt of heat shot straight down to his groin when his eyes fell upon the little minx.

She was wearing the bear fur cloak he made her years ago...and nothing else underneath.

Daenerys laughed at his dumbfounded expression and crooked her finger at him suggestively, urging him into motion.

His letter lay forgotten on the table, but that was the least important priority on his mind at the moment and he figured he would send it out in the morning.

Only a fool would ignore her temptations.

And Jorah was no fool.


	20. A Criminal's Choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...okay so it's been a long while since I've updated this story I know, I'm sorry. I struggled with this chapter so much and after two months of being unable to get anywhere with it, I just had to change it. Originally they were going to head to Winterfell for a short visit, but since I couldn't get into writing it, I just decided to scrap that, hence why this chapter is rather short.

The sharp tang of salty air and the cooling mist from the ocean engulfed Daenerys in a hug that she had come to love, that she had come to see as _home_.

She found that she missed the log longhall whenever they left, even for just a short while. So much so that she couldn’t imagine ever moving back to King’s Landing.

As the weather grew warmer the more spring spread its wings over Bear Island and the rest of Westeros, the market stalls down by the docks opened up to the inhabitants of the small island.

Missandei laughed as she watched the four young girls chased after a group of gulls. Her friend let out a soft sigh and looked over at her with a smile as they leisurely made their way down to the markets with the girls to check out what had been brought in from the mainland.

“What it is like to be young and carefree.” Missandei mused just as Elaena started following after a loud bird, the young girl’s shrieks of joy piercing through the nippy morning air.

Daenerys chuckled and watched her two girls closely, their silver hair fluttering in the air as they ran with their two cousins.

“Yeah, I’m so happy that they are able to grow up like this.” Daenerys said softly, remembering the way that she had had a rigid schedule when she was growing up in King’s Landing as a Princess. She wasn’t allowed to do or say certain things, always having to ensure that she didn’t tarnish the Targaryen name by doing something un-Princess like.

But here, on Bear Island with Jorah as their father, Rhaella and Elaena didn’t have to think that he saw them as less worthy than a son. Jorah loved his girls with all his heart and Bear Island had a different view on women in general.

Daenerys called for Rhaella and Elaena to come back over to her side since they had wandered too far away. They came over without complaint with Jorelle and Lyra right beside them.

They stopped near the docks, the ships in the port were bustling with people unloading their goods or simply chatting with others from the island that they hadn’t seen in a number of moons.

Picking up her youngest daughter, Daenerys settled the girl on her hip and searched the crowd of people down on the docks for her husband. Her eyes landed on him and a smile formed on her lips at the sight of him, but slowly faded away.

Daenerys could tell that something was bothering her husband by the way he shifted on his feet as he talked with a couple of Bear Islanders.

She came to stand by his side, Missandei and the other girls following behind, and he looked over at his wife almost apologetically.

“It seems like I’m going to be pulled away for a short while. Go ahead and look around without me.” Jorah sighed tiredly and she looked at him in worry.

“Is everything okay?” Shifting Elaena in her arms to that she was settled closer to her chest, Daenerys let her eyes fall shut when he ran his hand over her hair gently.

“Aye. Everything’s fine. I’ll only be a short while and then I’ll come and fine you. I promise.”

She opened her eyes and met his, her expression curious.

“What’s going on?” Daenerys questioned, a quick glance at the other Bear Islanders that were standing nearby gave her no information on what possibly could be happening.

“A trio of men were found poaching here. I’ve got to sentence them.” He sighed deeply, shaking his head almost regretfully, his hand dropping to the bear head pommel of Longclaw.

“What are you going to do Papa? To the men?” Rhaella, the ever curious girl, questioned her father with big wide violet eyes.

He knelt down to her height and rested a hand on her shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead, to which she grinned widely.

“There’s no need to worry about that my cub. Stay here with your mother and I’ll be back soon, okay?” He ruffled her hair, chuckling at her indignant squeak. Jorah stood and met Daenerys’ gaze, noticing the skeptical look in her gaze.

“I want to come with you Papa! I’ll behave myself I promise!” Rhaella clutched his hand in both of hers, batting her eyes up at him, something she knew he had a hard time saying ‘no’ to.

“I’m sorry, but no little one. Stay with Mama okay?” Jorah ran a finger over her cheek and tried to ignore the upset expression she was giving him.

“Actually Jorah...I was thinking that I should come with you. I am the Lady of Bear Island am I not? Shouldn’t I be present for this kind of thing?” Daenerys asked softly, meeting his eyes.

Jorah seemed to think about this and shrugged, running his hand through his hair.

“I may have to execute them. Are you sure you want to be there?” Jorah let her know what may be to come and she still nodded. She was a Princess after all and, though unlikely, there may come a day that she was a Queen and would have to make these decisions herself. Or if something were to happen to Jorah, she would have to step up and make the decisions that he would normally make as Lord.

“I’ll watch the girls.” Missandei offered, grabbing Elaena from Daenerys and holding onto Rhaella’s hand to ensure the girl didn’t try to follow her parents.

“Thank you Missandei.” He gave her a grateful look and turned to the other Bear Islanders, motioning them to lead the way to where they were holding the prisoners until his arrival.

Daenerys slipped her hand into his, running her thumb over his knuckles. There was a reason behind her wanting to be by his side, though she would never tell him.

A few days past, she had a dream where Jorah had sold poachers into slavery and was thus exiled to Essos. He had never stepped foot on Bear Island again, instead dying outside of Winterfell being attacked by an army that she couldn’t figure out who they were, no matter how much she tried to recall the specifics of her odd dream.

Now, it wasn’t that she lacked trust in him to _not _sell these poachers into slavery, Daenerys was certain he would _never _do that...but she just felt it odd in its timing with her recent dream and wanted to see this through.

They stopped in front of three bound men, Jorah taking the time to look over all of them before speaking.

“I have been informed of your crimes and been summoned to sentence the three of you. You have two choices. You can go north and join the Night’s Watch or execution.” His hand gripped the handle of sword tightly, his knuckles turning white with the force.

One of the men spat at Jorah’s feet as he glared up at Lord of Bear Island.

“Fuck you.” The man grunted, curling his lip up and baring his teeth.

“Really now? Is this really how it’s going to be?” Jorah practically growled in annoyance, his blue eyes sparking dangerously. “You’re not in a position to be insolent.”

“Then kill me. I ain’t going to become a fuckin’ crow.”

Jorah let out an inaudible sigh and drew Longclaw from its sheath as the other Bear Islanders that had come with them gathered the man up and shoved the man so his cheek was pressed against a flatter rock.

Daenerys watched the man.

At first he seemed to be full of piss and vinegar, angry at the world and everyone in it. But the second his cheek touched the cold stone of what would pose as his execution block, she couldn’t miss the switch in his stance.

How he almost became worried and regretful that this was how he was going to die.

“In the name of Rhaegar of the House Targaryen, First of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. I, Jorah of the House Mormont, Lord of Bear Island, sentence you to die.”

The Lord of Bear Island stood there for a moment in thought, his own regretful gaze focused solely on the man on his knees.

“Do you have any final words? Anything you wish to say to your family?” Her husband questioned and the sudden change in the man’s expression had her reeling. What had been regret and worry was quickly flopped back to anger and indignation.

He didn’t say a word.

Jorah swung Longclaw down and the man’s head separated from his body in one hit, the other two men flinching at the sight. He looked over at them and stared at them expectantly, waiting for their own decisions.

Both of them chose the Wall, not quite ready to die yet.

Jorah sent the pair of Bear Islanders that had apprehended the poachers to escort them to the wall, thanking his men graciously.

Cleaning the blood from the Valyrian steel blade, Jorah sheathed Longclaw before turning back to Daenerys with a solemn look on his face.

He exchanged a few words with a few of his men then made his way over to his wife.

“You did what had to be done. You gave him the choice and he made his.” She spoke softly, slipping her fingers through his and rested her head against his shoulder.

“Aye, I know. It still doesn’t make it any easier knowing that was what he chose when he had the option to live.” Jorah sighed. He had killed many men throughout his time, but, while it got easier to dissociate from the act of ending someone else’s life, the ghosts that haunted him sometimes at night never let him be.

They returned to the docks, the girls happily bouncing over to them and chattering excitedly about what they hoped to see at the markets.

Rhaella asked her father if they could buy some carrots for the stew they were planning on cooking for dinner that night.

“Of course my little cub. We’ll see what else we can find to add.” Since the island was typically cold and was rather rocky, they had a harder time growing many of the vegetables in the ground and would trade pelts and game with the mainland for them.

He scooped Elaena up and placed her on his shoulders, a content smile settling onto his face at being around his family.

It lightened Daenerys’ heart to see Jorah returning back to his normal self, though she knew that her husband had a penchant for hiding his emotions if he deemed them unnecessary to burden other people with.

Later, after they had returned home with their market spoils, the girls helped make the fish stew.

Rhaella determinedly chopped the carrots into large chunks and beamed when her father praised her for her good job. Lyra sat next to Jorah and handed him the fish to gut and clean while Elaena and Jorelle stirred the stew over the fire to ensure it didn’t burn.

When the whole family had gathered around the table a few hours later for supper, Daenerys smiled as she slipped her hand into her husband’s.

Life on Bear Island was mundane to many, but precious to most everyone who lived there.


	21. An Uncle's Tale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I read through this fully like...once before deciding to post it. I apologize for any mistakes (and for the long wait between chapters, I've been struggling to get motivated to write these days). I know where I want the next couple of chapters to go, I just need to actually write them. :)

Blood slicked the frozen ground. Bodies fell. Fires burned.

Every which direction he looked was engulfed in chaos and death.

People fighting for the survival of loved ones.

No...

People fighting just to survive.

A scream echoed from somewhere.

Was it familiar? He couldn’t tell. Blood pumped loudly in his ears, deafening the suffering of men he would have considered brothers had he not been so focused on his own survival.

Turning to his left, he met the frenzied gaze of a man with a direwolf stitched to his tunic.

They were both bloodied, but at least they were still standing.

And breathing.

They were still **_alive_**.

And that was what mattered right now.

Blocking a blow that would have likely ended his life, he lost view of the other man and quickly forgot about him.

Now...

Now he focused on survival.

Parry left, dodge right.

Swing high, duck low.

Kill one, three more come.

On and on went the long night, the bitter cold burning his face and lungs.

Fires flickered here and there, small explosions shaking the ground and killing few.

To his right, he saw one of his brothers. A good man. Strong. Brave.

He saw him gutted through.

He watched him collapse to the ground. Unmoving. Dead.

Yet he couldn’t grieve, he had to survive and grief clouds judgement.

A lapse in judgment would kill him.

On and on he fought, blocking blow after blow. The snarling bear head on the pommel of his Valyrian steel sword representing the inner rage that pulsed through his arteries.

He was tiring and his enemy kept coming.

Never wavering.

Never ending.

Then...

A misstep. 

One mistake.

His eyes met that of his enemy, the blue of its eyes empty and unhuman.

He felt the sword plunge deep into his gut.

\----

Jorah shot up in bed, his heart pounding heavily in his chest and a cold sweat covering his body.

His hand ran across his lower abdomen in bewildered confusion.

_What the hell was that?_

He could still feel the blood racing through his veins as his adrenaline slowly came back down to a normal level.

“You okay?” A warm hand came to rest on his sweat covered back, breaking him out of his thoughts and he turned his head to look back at his wife’s curious gaze, her voice muddled with sleep.

“Aye. I’m fine.” Jorah reassures her, though the way she furrows her eyebrows tells him she isn’t quite buying it, but she doesn’t push him for an answer.

Laying back down, Jorah gathers her into his arms and pulls her against him. Her hands come to rest on torso, her palms warm against his chest while her fingers run softly over his collarbone.

She slips back into sleep, her breathing evening out as she lets out a quiet snore.

Jorah stays awake for a long while after she drifts off, his mind still reeling from his strange dream.

_What were those things they...he(?) was fighting?_

One of the things that stuck out to Jorah, even laying there wide awake in his room with Daenerys bundled up next to him, was how bone chillingly **_cold_** it had been in his dream.

He doesn’t mention his dream to anyone the next morning, thinking it was just his over imaginative mind giving him some odd midnight scare.

**

Daenerys kisses Jorah and runs her fingers through her husband’s hair lovingly as he sat on the bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and staring at her slightly confused.

Normally, Jorah is up hours before she is, so it is unusual for her to be the one waking him up.

“What are you doing up so early?” He chuckles as he stands from the mattress, his back popping a few times.

“Missandei and I were going to head down to the docks again today. To check out the stalls.” She told him, allowing him to wrap her in his arms.

“I can come with you if you want to wait a little for me to get ready.”

She shakes her head, kissing his jaw twice before ducking out of his hold.

“No, we’ll be fine. Besides, didn’t you promise the girls you’d spend today with them?”

He nods, recalling that he did say that yesterday and he couldn’t disappoint the girls by going back on his word.

Daenerys kisses him once more then leaves their bedroom with a spring in her step.

She was grateful that he hadn’t pushed the issue of going with her and Missandei.

It wasn’t that she didn’t _want _him to spend time with her, she just didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

Missandei was waiting for her by the front door to the keep, already bundled up appropriately.

“You ready Princess?”

“I am. Let’s go.” Daenerys led the way out of the keep, waving to Maege as they passed her outside. The older Mormont was chopping wood with Dacey, who looked like she was half asleep at her post.

Neither woman said anything as they walked down the dirt path to the docks, the cold morning air biting at their noses and making their ears ache.

The strong scent of the ocean wafted over to them, the closer they got to the ports where the islanders and merchants were setting up their market stalls.

Once they reached the harbor, Daenerys stood on her tiptoes to try and search for the one ship she was waiting for.

“Doesn’t look like they’re here yet.” She mumbled and Missandei quietly agreed.

While they waited for the ship’s arrival, they decided to take the time to go through the market, smiling at the islanders that happily greeted their Lady and her close friend.

In many of the other houses in Westeros, the commonfolk wouldn’t approach their Lord or Lady without a specific reason, nor would they greet either one familiarly, but Bear Island was unlike those other houses.

“My Lady! You’ve returned. Perhaps I can interest you in something today?” Darrick, a blacksmith by day and a jeweler by night, waved her over with a bright smile.

“Hmm, I don’t know. Perhaps you may?” Daenerys grinned back and made her way over to the stall where the Bear Island smith was showcasing his knives, daggers and jeweled rings.

She didn’t end up purchasing anything, but had instead found herself lost in a conversation with the man after she questioned about his sons, which he in turn asked about her daughters.

Daenerys turned her head towards the docks when she heard a commotion picking up and she placed the silver necklace she had in her hands back down onto the stall. She looked to Missandei, a grin growing on her face when she recognized the banners that flew on the ship that had just docked at the port.

It was hard to miss the three headed red dragon breathing fire on a field of black after all.

She and Missandei made their way over to greet their visitors. They had to shimmy their way through the ever growing group to get to the front. Once the people standing around trying to get a glimpse of the embarking group noticed that it was their Lady that was trying to get through, they moved to the side and let her move on ahead.

“Brother, welcome.” Daenerys beamed at Rhaegar when he walked off the ship and pulled her into a great big hug.

“It’s a pleasure to be here dear sister. Though I must say it’s damn cold.” Rhaegar shivered as he said this, ignoring the way Ser Gerold Hightower snorted and Ser Arthur Dayne chuckled at their King’s words. The two were carrying a chest between them, large enough to make Daenerys wonder what was inside it.

“You get used to it.” She laughed before greeting her good sister, Elia, and her niece and nephew, Rhaenys and Aegon.

“Do you really though?” Elia asked, the Danish woman seemed to be shivering more than any of the others as her dress didn’t cover her properly.

“Yes, it takes a while...unless you’re born here then it apparently never feels cold.” Daenerys joked and Missandei giggled, both of them thinking to how the Mormonts, both old and young, never seemed to feel the chill even as they were half naked in the freezing river, splashing around and fishing without a care in the world.

“That’s hard to believe.” Rhaegar chuckled and shook his head, discreetly rubbing his hands together as he glanced around at the scenery of the island all the while trying to ignore the curious glances of the native islanders.

“Come on, let’s get you all up to the keep before you freeze.” Daenerys smiled and started leading them back up the natural dirt path that generations of Mormonts walking up had carved out.

Both of the young Targaryens were amazed at the sight. All the trees and rocks that littered the island gave it a rugged and unforgiving look to someone that had spent all their life in the cities.

“Are there bears here?” Rhaenys asked, coming up to walk next to her aunt.

Daenerys nodded and let the girl slip her hand into hers as they walked.

“There are. Great big brown bears.”

“Are...they dangerous?” Aegon questioned, his eyes wide as he glanced around the forest to see if he would find one in waiting.

“Of course they are Aegon. They’re wild beasts.” Elia told her son and held onto his hand tightly, her own gaze wandering their surroundings.

“Don’t worry though, they don’t come this close to the keep or the docks. When they do, the islanders take care of them.” Daenerys informed them and she could see that her words lessened their fear slightly. But only slightly.

The trees cleared out as they neared Mormont Keep and Daenerys held back her smile when she beheld the warrior lady that was carved into the front of the keep. She stood there proudly, ax in one hand and a babe in the other.

When she looked over at her brother, she about burst into laughter at his mind boggled stare.

“That’s the island’s Lady. They’re quite proud of her.” Daenerys said seriously before giggling and leading them into the keep.

Right into a bloodbath.

All four younger girls were running around practically naked and covered head to toe in blood all the while laughing and playing like this was a normal occurrence. The older Mormonts were also bloody, but slightly less so than the young ones.

Maege was cackling as Lyra teased her sister with some bloody mess of _something _that Daenerys wasn’t sure she wanted to know what it was. Jorah, Dacey and Alysane were busy cleaning the buck that they must have caught earlier, their own laughter ringing through the entry hall at the kid’s antics.

Jorah glanced up, his mirthful expression dying as soon as his eyes land on King Rhaegar.

The sudden tension in the Lord of the Island causes the older Mormonts to catch on real quick and the noise in the hall goes silent almost immediately after Jorah noticed the visitors.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again Ser Jorah.” Rhaegar grins at his good brother, stepping into the hall, but staying far enough away from the red substance that seemed to coat every surface.

“...As it is you Your Grace.” Jorah responds slowly, almost in a daze as he places his knife down and bows his head in respect.

He looks up at Daenerys wide-eyed, silently asking her why Rhaegar was here.

She was trying her hardest not to laugh at the situation.

“It seems my wife has failed to inform me of your coming Your Grace.” Jorah turned his attention back to the amused monarch, shooting glances at Daenerys.

Rhaegar shrugs his shoulders and comes fully into the keep with an easy grin on his face, sensing his sister’s husband’s discomfort and embarrassment.

“I did tell her I wanted to see her home as it truly is and not set up for my visit.” He tells Jorah, eyeing the bloody mess then the blood covered children, all of which were staring at him curiously.

Jorah followed his gaze and jumped into action, corralling the kids towards the front door, all the while apologizing to the King and Queen of Westeros before ushering the young bears out of the keep.

“Where are they going?” Elia questions as she watches them leave, the huge wooden door shutting heavily behind Jorah.

“Probably out to bathe in the river.” Daenerys tells her and meets her good sister’s appalled stare.

Maege comes over, wiping her hands on a rag and eyeing Rhaegar with suspicion.

“You’re the King...aren’t you?” The elder Mormont questions sharply, her blue eyes sparking as she stares at the oldest living Targaryen.

“I am. King Rhaegar Targaryen.” He introduces himself, raising a hand to stop his Kingsguard from chastising Maege for her lack of respect.

She huffs, shoving the bloody towel around her belt before crossing her arms and looking him up and down.

Rhaegar stands there and watches her watch him.

“Why would you waste your time coming out to the ass crack of the North?” Maege eventually questions him and Daenerys has to stop herself from laughing, having gotten used to Maege and her blunt and vulgar way of speaking, but she knew that her brother wasn’t if his surprised expression was anything to go by.

Ser Gerold and Ser Arthur were appalled by her, but their King’s laughter stopped them from drawing their swords and demanding that she respect her King.

“I wanted to see my sister’s home.” Rhaegar admitted to her after his laughter calmed, though a smile remained on his face.

“Truly?” Mage questioned skeptically, raising an eyebrow at him before shrugging and returning to the buck without another word.

The four, cleaned girls returned shortly afterwards, thundering into the main hall only to pause when they remembered that the King was in their home.

Jorah came in after them, bowing his head slightly to the King then helping Maege get the cleaned buck over the fire.

“Psst, hey! You want to see our rock collection?” Elaena whispered loudly over to Rhaenys and Aegon while the adults were talking, her bright blue eyes glittering with excitement at the prospect of having two new friends. Rhaella smacked her sister’s arm, stunned that she would be asking the princess and prince of Westeros to see her dumb rock collection.

Rhaenys glanced up to her mother and father in question, smiling when they nodded in agreement. She took her younger brother’s hand and led him over to the Mormont girls and followed them into keep, making fast friends with them.

“I’m glad that they are getting along.” Daenerys says as she watches all the kids leave.

“It is. It’s nice to see you all again by the way.” Rhaegar tells them, looking between his sister, her husband and Missandei.

“I am curious as to why you are visiting Your Grace. I can’t recall there ever being a King that has come to Bear Island since we are so remote and aren’t the most rich, notable house in the North.” Jorah mentions inquiringly, unable to wrap his mind around his visit.

“Maybe he just wants to visit his favorite good brother and sister.” Daenerys teases, leaning against her husband’s broad chest and wrapping her arms around him.

Jorah snorts in amusement, brushing his nose against hers before placing a kiss to her forehead.

“Actually, yes. That is a big motivator to my visit.” Rhaegar admits, smiling at the scene in front of him. He is immensely grateful that he had blessed his sister’s marriage as she seemed to be extremely happy with her Bear Lord.

“But...” Jorah draws out a chuckle from the King. Rhaegar knows that Ser Jorah isn’t a fool and can see right through him.

“I also wanted to drop something off here. For safe keeping.” He finally added, glancing to Ser Gerold and Ser Arthur. The two Kingsguards picked up the chest that they had carried up from the ship and placed it in front of their King.

Rhaegar glanced between the large wooden box, then up to where Dacey and Aly were staring. The Targaryen looked to Jorah.

“Ah, these are my cousins. Dacey and Alysane. That’s my aunt, Maege.” Jorah introduced the rest of the Mormonts, having seen that Rhaegar was reluctant to open the chest without knowing that he could trust everyone in the room.

It was enough to curb the King’s curiosity and he carefully lifted the lid of the chest, revealing the three, sparkling dragons eggs that were nested inside.

Daenerys gasped at the sight, her eyes flying up to her brothers before she reached out and picked one up.

She ran her fingers over the black scaled shell of the egg with a sense of reverence.

“A merchant from Essos gifted these to me. He was hoping to gain favor in my court I think.” Rhaegar told them, his own fingers brushing against the eggs.

“They’re beautiful.” Daenerys sighed, clutching the egg to her chest and looking at the other two in amazement.

“Why bring them here?” Jorah questioned the King, his hand coming to rest on his wife’s back as he looked them over. They looked to be nothing more than stones. Pretty stones, but stones nonetheless.

“They’d be much safer here, than in the Red Keep.” Rhaegar tells him as he meets his good brother’s gaze.

Jorah nods in agreement, but still finds it odd.

“Aye, I suppose so. We’ll keep them safe, I swear to you.” Jorah says after a while and Rhaegar grins at him.

“I believe that you will. You have kept my sister more than safe after all.” Jorah smiles at that, his eyes dropping to look down at his silver haired beauty that tilted her head up to grin at him, her eyes sparkling with love.

Daenerys placed the egg back with the others and let her brother shut the lid.

The kids came running in again moments later, smiles wide on their faces.

“Mother, look!” Aegon holds his hands out towards his mother, a grey colored rock lying flat on his palms. It was shaped like a leaf and the young boy couldn’t be happier about having it in his possession.

“That’s a nice rock.” Elia says, ruffling her son’s hair. “Did you thank the girls for giving it to you?”

“He did.” Elaena informs the Queen with a grin.

“That’s a kind thing you girls have done. To give Aegon a gift.” The queen smiled at the Mormont girls, her hand running through her son’s hair as he grinned at the rock and drew lines over the various cracks.

Jorah knew that his daughters had big hearts and if anything, this was proof to him that he and Daenerys were raising them right. He glanced over at Daenerys and he knew that she was thinking the same.

His gaze was then drawn over to the Targaryen King and Jorah couldn’t stop the sudden niggling feeling that Bear Island wouldn’t be up to Rhaegar’s standards and he would decide that Daenerys would be better off returning to King’s Landing.

Of course, he also knew that his fears were unfounded since Daenerys was happy here and Rhaegar was pleased with her joy.

“I must apologize Your Grace. Mormont Keep isn’t suited for royalty and I’m afraid that we’re unable to throw a large feast in your honor.” Nonetheless, Jorah apologized knowing that Bear Island’s coffers were doing better than they had in years, an exuberant expense would set them back greatly.

They weren’t a poor house. They never had been, but Bear Island didn’t match up with some of the other houses in Westeros gold wise.

“It’s no problem at all. Please, do not worry. I actually am looking forward to trying a home-cooked northern meal for once.” Rhaegar replied, placing his hand on the Northern lord’s shoulder.

“Corn! Corn! Fuck!” A black mess of feathers and fury comes flying through one of the open windows, alighting on Jorah’s other shoulder before puffing up and shaking out its feathers.

The royals look at the raven in shock while the others slowly come to the realization what the bird’s presence means.

“My apologies Your Grace. He’s a nasty little bird.” Jorah sighs and tries to shake the bird off his shoulder even as Daenerys giggles and mutters ‘_that you taught to curse’_ under her breath.

The door opens and garners everyone’s attention as a cold breeze blows through in.

Jeor walks through the doors still dressed in his Night’s Watch outfit, black from head to toe with a brown bag thrown over his shoulder.

Rhaegar glances over to Jorah and Daenerys curiously checking to see if they recognize the newcomer and nods to Ser Gerold and Ser Arthur to stand down.

Dacey and Alysane both run over to him to hug him, happy to see their never present uncle.

“You two sure have grown haven’t you?” Jeor ruffles both their heads before placing his bag on the ground to pull out something from it. “I got a little something for you.”

He hands Dacey a pair of slightly worn riding gloves and Aly a well-crafted dagger that had obviously served its previous owner well.

“Thanks Uncle.” Dacey kisses Jeor’s cheek in thanks before checking out the newish gloves.

“It’s not much. Sometimes we get people that bring in stuff that they can’t keep anymore. Figured it shouldn’t go to waste.” He tells them as he continues to dig in his bag, pulling out presents for everyone.

Jeor moves around the room, bestowing gifts upon everyone with the mindset that since he can no longer be around his family, then at the very least he can make it up to them in the form of material items that will remind them of him.

He wraps a rough, blue scarf around Daenerys’ shoulders and pins a jewel-less butterfly pin on Missandei’s tunic, apologizing about the fact that all the gems had already fallen off. She didn’t mind one bit, smiling and thanking him for the gift regardless. All the kids, including the prince and princess, get a small baggy of candies, ones that he picked up in Deepwood Motte on his way here.

Jeor pulls out a roughened up book, some of the pages had been falling out when he acquired it but have since been reattached, and he brushes off the cover as he walks over to Jorah.

“I know I’ve never been a great father...but I couldn’t help but think of you when I saw this.” He says gruffly, yet Jorah could hear the almost imperceptible way his voice wavered. Jeor held the book out to him and Jorah paused a moment before grabbing the old tome from him, his own fingers tracing the carved title on the front.

“_The Legacy of Joramun, King Beyond the Wall._”

While Jorah was glancing through the book, Jeor noticed the two that he hadn’t given anything to and dug around his bag, pulling out what he had left. Handing over a pale yellow scarf to Elia and a bag of candies to Rhaegar, he folded up the bag and glanced over at his son’s amused expression.

“What?” Jeor huffed, cocking a white eyebrow at Jorah questioningly.

“Father, this is King Rhaegar Targaryen and his wife, Queen Elia.” Jorah introduced the two that Jeor hadn’t paid any attention to as he handed over the gifts.

But now that he took the time to pay more attention, the eldest Mormont was horrified.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you my Lord.” Rhaegar chuckled, holding the small sack in one hand.

“I’m...not a lord. Not of Bear Island anyways.” Jeor grunted and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I’m Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch.”

“Ah. That explains why you are dressed in all black.”

“What did you do to end up at the Wall?” Elia questions warily, pulling Aegon closer to her side as she eyed Jeor with suspicion.

“I joined by my own prerogative. I wanted to let Jorah take over as the lord of Bear Island.” He said, lessening the Queen’s fears slightly and she loosened her hold on her young son.

“That’s very noble of you. Westeros thanks you for the service.” Rhaegar declared with an easy smile.

Jeor didn’t think of the Night’s Watch as a form of punishment, at least not if one joined by choice. Otherwise the Wall was the perfect place to send criminals such that they were away from people and still doing something productive with their lives.

With a nod to the King’s statement, Jeor moved to help his son and sister finish up with the rest of the food they would have for their evening meal.

Supper wasn’t a grand affair, especially not for the royals that were used to the grandeur that King’s Landing provided.

Yet all the same, Rhaegar enjoyed the change of pace. Watching the way his sister smiled and laughed alongside her husband and his family made the King happy for her.

For most of his life, Rhaegar had heard about the cold hearts that the cold northern people had and he had believed what was said for the most part, but he was seeing things differently now.

Later, when the sun dipped below the horizon and everyone was starting to ready themselves for sleep, Jorah approached Rhaegar.

“I’ll have the Lord’s chambers readied for you and the Queen, Your Grace.” Jorah told him, giving him a confused look when Rhaegar shook his head.

“Don’t bother. We will be content in another room. I wouldn’t dare take my sister’s bed away from her.” He chuckled amicably, resting a hand on his good brother’s shoulder with a smile.

“Are you certain Your Grace? I’m sure Daenerys wouldn’t mind...” Ser Jorah started but Rhaegar was insistent on not taking the Lord’s chambers.

Jorah conceded after a while, figuring out that Daenerys’ brother was just about as stubborn as she was and he knew he would never win in an argument against a Targaryen, especially not his King.

After ensuring that Rhaegar would be fine in one of the empty guest rooms, Jorah went to check on the children and make sure that they were actually getting ready for bed like they were supposed to.

“Now what is all this?” Jorah chuckled upon coming into Rhaella’s room and seeing the mess that the kids have made.

Pillows and blankets were strewn all over the floor and the girls and Aegon were nestled amongst everything with grins wide on all of their faces.

“We wanted to sleep in the same room, but there isn’t enough room on the bed for everyone.” Elaena offered to her papa excitedly, her blue eyes darting over to her new friends/cousins.

“Ah. I see.” Jorah smiled at his daughter and ruffled her silver hair affectionately. “Don’t be staying up too late my cubs okay?”

“Papa? Can you tell us a story?” Rhaella questioned, sitting up straight and batting her violet eyes at him pleadingly.

“Oh yes please! May you tell us a story Uncle Jorah?” Rhaenys grasped her hands together in front of her chest with a pleading smile of her own.

The title of ‘Uncle’ startled him coming from the princess, but he realized when he went to correct her it occurred to him that he_ would_ be considered her uncle.

“I like stories too.” Aegon looked up at him almost shyly and how could Jorah possibly let all the children down.

Slowly making his way down onto the floor so he was sat amongst the kids, he grunted when he was instantly surrounded by six excited younglings that were staring up at him expectantly.

“Alright...what do you want to hear about?”

\-------

“I think I can see why you love it here dear sister.” Rhaegar found Daenerys, Missandei and one of the Mormont girls fixing up the spare room for him and Elia and decided to help her out.

She was straightening up a thick fur blanket over the bed and she smiled when he entered.

“Ah, well I have come to love Bear Island with its deep blues and ruggedness that holds more beauty than I’ve ever seen elsewhere.” Daenerys spoke as she finished making up the large bed.

“Are you sure you’re talking about Bear Island...or is it my cousin you’re describing?” Dacey teased, nudging Daenerys with a sly grin.

Daenerys laughed and shoved the other girl back lightly and rolled her eyes.

“Perhaps. He is very handsome.” Daenerys shot back and smiled over at her brother when he laughed, shaking his head good-naturedly.

Elia joined them after a while, just before they all managed to finish prepping the room, the fire roaring in the hearth and a multitude of blankets covering the bed.

“Thank you Daenerys. It had been a pleasure visiting you here, especially on such short notice.” Elia grabbed her good sister’s hands in hers.

“It’s our pleasure Elia. Both of you are welcome to visit whenever you want.”

“We will have to remember that. But for now, we should probably check to see how the kids are doing. I’m sure they aren’t in bed.”

Making their way down the hallway to where the children should be ready for bed, none of them were surprised when they overheard excited kids talking echoing through the keep.

They were surprised though to see Jorah sitting with them, regaling them with some story about a Dragon Queen and her Knight.

“But what house was the knight from?” Aegon bounced on his knees, leaning into the older man with wide questioning eyes.

“Oh I don’t know. I’m sure he was from a good house.” Jorah continued, not having noticed everyone standing in the doorway.

“Yes, but which _one?_” Aegon wouldn’t let Jorah slide and Rhaenys sighed with a laugh.

“He won’t let you continue until you give the Knight a house.” The princess informed him and ignored the look her brother shot her way. “How about Mormont? A Bear Knight?”

Jorah blinked at her with a soft, confused chuckle.

“Yeah! A Bear Knight! The Dragon Queen and her Bear Knight!” Aegon sat back, satiated with the knowledge and looked to Jorah expectantly. “Do continue please.”

Jorah smiled at the young boy then let out an elongated sigh, as if he were trying to recall where he was in his story.

“You were at the part that the knight saved the queen from the assassin.” Jorelle offered him, obviously impatient and not wanting to listen to her cousin’s dramatics when she could be listening to the rest of the story instead.

“Aye, right. So the knight came through the market...” He continued, but was interrupted by Aegon again.

“Bear Knight.”

“Right. So the _Bear _knight came through the marketplace and saw the hooded man following the young queen...”

“You already did this part.” Lyra butt in, shoving his side with a frown.

“Ah...aye I did didn’t I?” It was then that Jorah noticed the others waiting around. “Anyways little ones, it’s late and you all should be getting to sleep.”

“No!” “You can’t leave the story there!” “Just a little longer? Please papa?”

Pushing himself up from the ground, or at least trying to, Jorah was thrown off balance when the kids threw themselves at him to attempt to keep him with them.

“We promise to go to be after you finish the story. Please cousin...” Lyra pleaded with him, batting her bright blue eyes.

“Yes please Uncle?” Rhaenys held tightly onto his tunic sleeve and tried to pull him back down to the floor with them.

“Rhaenys, it isn’t polite to bother Lord Mormont. Now let’s get ready for bed, come on.” Elia put her rather disgruntled daughter and son to bed while Jorah and Daenerys tucked in the other girls as best as they could on their floor bed.

It was apparent that none of the children would actually fall asleep for a while longer, but as long as they eventually fell asleep that was good enough they supposed.

Saying goodnight to Rhaegar and Elia, Daenerys held Jorah’s hand and dragged him into their chamber, more than happy to finally have him to herself.

She loved her family dearly, but the moments she had alone with Jorah in the dark of their room were her favorite. Their bodies moving as one as she held him tightly in her arms and he panted against her neck as they made love.

Laying her head on his chest in the aftermath, Daenerys listened to his heartbeat and let it lull her to sleep, her dreams full of baby bears and tiny dragons.


	22. The Dragon's Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this is months late at this point. I did not mean to disappear for as long as I did but my computer decided to stop working a few months back so I had to get a new one then on top of everything I had major motivation loss when it came to writing and I do apologize for how short this chapter is. Hopefully I can get back into the swing of writing for Jorleesi and won't take so long to get the next chapter out.

Looking at all of the dead that littered the frozen ground, snow slowly trying to cover the bodies, his eyes drift over the faces of the men and women that he had known once and had given their lives in a battle that had seemed hopeless.

He met the pained gaze of the Wolf Lord that stood amongst the brothers he had lost in the war.

No one had been spared, the undead hadn’t shown the living mercy and not a one that had survived would ever sleep easy again, remembering how their loved ones had risen from where they had died to fight against them.

He had never seen men lose hope faster than he had in that single, heart dropping moment.

His hand rested on the bear pommel of his bloodied sword, he avoided the hundreds of bodies that littered the ground as he moved wearily to the man that he had fought side by side with throughout what would one day be known as ‘The Long Night’, for the Wolf Lord’s words finally rang of the truth.

Winter had been coming for years and now Winter is here.

Winter would stick around for a total of six long years before the white ravens were seen in the south again.

It would prove hard for him to rebuild his destroyed home while combating against the harsh grip of winter, but here he stands and here he will stand for decades to come alongside the remaining members of his family.

He wasn’t so deluded to believe that, come tonight, he’d see all the ones of his household alive and unscathed. But they’d have to continue onwards otherwise they’d just be spitting on the memories of the ones who died trying to stop Winter from coming and wiping out everyone in Westeros.

Coming to stop by the Wolf Lord, he finally sees what has the older man broken down when his eyes land upon the bloodied and broken body of the eldest son of the lord. He could only imagine what was going through the man’s head while he hopes that the gods have been kind to him and haven’t taken his own children from him.

He had already seen his wife fall early on into the battle; her body lost somewhere within the smoldering rubble of the east part of the Wall. It would take him weeks to find her frozen, blood encrusted body and finally be able to take her home to get a proper burial.

He refuses to burn her body, regardless of what he had seen during the Long Night and how the dead could still rise. He would honor her like she deserved and would send her off to the gods properly.

\------

Jorah lays in bed for a long while after he wakes, his heart still pounding from his odd dream that left him feeling uneasy. He looks over at Daenerys who was still fast asleep, the soft innocence of her young face brings a feeling of comfort to him and he can’t help but reach out and brush away her hair from her forehead.

The slight movement causes her eyes to flutter open and she smiles softly at him, leaning her cheek against his rough palm.

“Good morning my bear.” She says quietly as she lets out a yawn and scoots closer to him so her arm can wrap around his bare torso. Resting her head on his warm chest, Daenerys runs her fingers over his stomach lovingly.

“Morning my sweet. You sleep well?” He asks and trails his hand down her back before letting it rest against her hip. Her voice did wonders to bring him back from the horrors of his dream and he finds a tender smile that he reserves only for her coming to his face.

She nods and stretches as she sits up, a smile breaking across her face as she catches him staring at her bare breasts. “See something you like my love?” She teases and giggles when his cheeks turn a light pink as he smiles at her caught.

“Always my Princess.” He chuckles and rolls over, taking her down with him so she is underneath his larger form. Daenerys laughs brightly before pulling him down into a loving kiss, her hands running up through the back of his hair.

Her legs spread to accommodate him between them and she lets out a soft moan as his manhood slides through her folds, slicked with the natural lubricant that betrays how eager she is to have her husband in the most intimate of ways.

Jorah’s tongue brushes against her bottom lip questioningly before Daenerys opens her mouth for him, their tongue sliding against one another’s passionately. Her hands run down his back, fingertips trailing over old marks from earlier lovemaking sessions that she had left in the heat of the moment.

Wrapping her legs around his waist, she tries to pull him into her since she doesn’t want to spend another moment without him inside her, but Jorah seems to want to take his time and chuckles into her mouth before pulling back a little to look into her eyes.

“We have all morning love, there’s no need to rush.” He teases lightly though he knows Daenerys enough to know that she isn’t the most patient of people especially when there is something that she wants desperately.

“Ugh…Jorah…please?” She smiles and reaches between them to grab his hard manhood and try to guide it to her entrance, moaning loudly when he doesn’t fight her any longer and pushes into her gently.

Daenerys sighs out contently as Jorah fills her intimately, tightening her hold on him as he starts to move inside of her. He buries his face against her shoulder as he gently bucks his hips into hers, his cock pressing deep inside of her and sliding against her intimate walls.

“You’ve been quite amorous recently my love…” Jorah pants as he lifts himself from her shoulder so he can look into her eyes with a teasing glint.

“Can you blame me my dear husband?” She teases right back, digging her heels into his rump and using the leverage to help her meet his thrusts. He chuckles and mumbles ‘guess not’ against her lips moments before he captures her mouth in a loving kiss.

Daenerys’ fingertips press into his shoulders, running over small scars that she was very familiar with at this point in their marriage…she’s certain there isn’t a scar on his body that she couldn’t recognize and there were only a few that she hadn’t gotten the story behind where they had come from.

She bites back the loud moan that tries to escape her throat when he angles his hips just right, his manhood brushing against her clit as he presses down into her and again as he pulls out just far enough for her to miss his girth before thrusting back in to reconnect them.

“Oh Jorah…I love you…” Daenerys groans softly and lays her forehead against the top of his shoulder, letting him take the lead as he brings that delicious warmth to her lower belly that only he gives her. She smiles against his skin when he whispers back about how much he loves and adores her, his voice strained as he tries to focus on bringing her pleasure.

Daenerys finishes first with a soft cry, her inner walls constricting around his manhood as he continues to cant into her, his pace increasing once she orgasms until his hips stutter to a stop and he hilts himself inside her as deep as he can go and releases his seed into her womb with a low groan.

Coming done from their highs, Jorah pulls out of her and lays down next to her again. Even though they just woke up he already wants to go back to sleep for maybe just a little while longer. Daenerys giggles and kisses his forehead before slipping out of bed once she’s noticed he’s fallen back asleep, obviously exhausted from their lovemaking and the lack of sleep he got the previous night.

\----

Jorah finds Daenerys sitting on the floor in the bedroom with the three dragon eggs in her lap, her fingers brushing over the bright scales of the petrified stones with a sense of awe crossing over her face.

She smiles up at him when she notices him come in, but her attention is quickly returned to the dark shell of the egg that has her interest.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time in here with those eggs ever since your brother left.” Jorah notes, coming over to sit next to her as she runs her fingers over the shimmering scales of the egg. She leans against his shoulder and sets the golden egg onto his lap with a tender look.

“They’re beautiful aren’t they?” She says with an airy tone, reaching up to cup his cheek in her palm for a moment.

“Aye…they are.” He agrees though he’s not sure they’re quite beautiful enough to garner the amount of attention that she’s been given them since Rhaegar left near a fortnight ago.

Daenerys hums a soft tune, though whether she’s singing to the eggs or just because she felt like it, Jorah isn’t sure.

“Do you think they will hatch someday?” She asks an innocent question, her hair falling over his shoulder when she tilts her head up to look at him with a soft twinkle in her eye at the idea of having actual, living dragons around again.

“I don’t know Daenerys…they are petrified so my assumption would be that they won’t.” Jorah tells her honestly, but she doesn’t seem all that bothered by the answer and continues to let her fingers dance over the shiny stone.

Elaena and Rhaella join them after a while, both girls wanting to see what their mama and papa are up to and are excited to see that the dragon’s eggs are out so they can see them better.

“Oh, Mama may I hold one?” Rhaella begs as she comes to sit on her father’s lap, waiting until he’s moved the golden egg so she doesn’t sit on it.

“Of course baby girl.” Daenerys smiles and sets the green egg on her daughter’s lap, watching with a sense of pride that at least her children understand her love for the reptiles. Seeing that Jorah’s handed back the gold egg, she sets that one into Elaena’s lap and kisses her youngest’s head when the girl practically beams once the large stone is in her possession.

“It’s so pretty mama!” Elaena says with a bright grin, turning her gaze up to her parents excitedly before hugging the egg to her chest.

“Mine’s prettier Elaena.” Rhaella declares, holding the green egg and turning it so it shimmered in the light, wanting so bad for the egg to be hers so she could put it in her room and see it whenever she wanted to.

“Noo…mine’s shinier…” Elaena pouts and giggles when Jorah kisses her cheek, her little arms wrapping around his neck and hugging him now that he was close.

“They’re both pretty you two. There’s no need to fight over something silly like that.” Jorah chides them and they both nod, smiling at him softly. Afterwards, they return to tracing patterns over their respective eggs and enjoying the time they get with their mama and papa before Jorah had to go back to doing his lordly duties for the day.

They complain when Jorah finally pushes himself up from the floor. “I’ve got to go my cubs…Maege needs my help down at the docks with the shipments coming in.” Jorah tells the girls and offers them both a kiss to the top of their heads before kissing Daenerys gently, earning a soft ‘eugh’ from both girls.

Once Jorah was gone, Rhaella and Elaena turn their attention to Daenerys and lean against their mother happily, the eggs seated in their laps.

“Mama?” Rhaella looks at Daenerys with a soft, saccharine sweet smile, leading her mother to know that something was on her daughter’s mind that she might not like.

“Yes baby?” Daenerys brushes her hand over her daughter’s silver hair tenderly and pulls her close against her in an embrace.

“May I keep this egg in my room? I promise I will take very good care of it.” Rhaella asks sweetly, blinking up at her mother with a look of pleading innocence.

Daenerys weighs the risks for a few moments of the idea of letting her daughter keep the dragon’s egg in her room and in the end, she just didn’t feel like it was the best idea.

“No sweetheart. They need to stay together, here where it’s safe for them.” Daenerys tells her daughter gently, her heart aching at the disappointed look on her face.

“Okay Mama…I understand.” Rhaella says and runs her hand over the green egg lovingly.

Elaena had her arms wrapped around the golden one and Daenerys knew it was going to be hard to get her to let it up. There was no doubt that her girls had Targaryen blood in them, but she could also see the Mormont in them both.

“You girls want to help put them up?” Daenerys asks, picking the black and red one up and running her own fingers over the deep shimmering scales lightly, watching her daughters pick their respective eggs up and follows her back over to the chest so they could set them back in their padded beds.

She helps the young girls place the eggs in their possession back into the chest next to the black one, making sure that they’re settled in nicely so they don’t end up getting damaged in any way.

“Goodnight little dragons.” Elaena says, pressing a kiss on the golden egg and patting it gently before smiling up at her mother. Daenerys scoops her up into her arms and presses kisses all over the little girl’s cheeks, earning a playful giggle fit from her.

In the coming weeks, Daenerys would find herself being more and more drawn to the petrified dragon’s eggs, her dreams being plagued by visions of three great dragons flying the skies of Westeros once again.

Rhaella and Elaena would join her sometimes and sit with her while she holds the eggs, trying to keep the time she spends with them to a minimum while Jorah was around since she’s not sure how he’d take her telling him that she truly believes that it was possible to hatch the dragons inside.

Turns out she’ll spring her theory on him in two week’s time, guided by her constant visions from her dreams and she’ll wish that she talked to him about it ahead of time. She’s never seen Jorah so broken and she never wants to be the reason for him to be in that state ever again.

They’ll write songs on Bear Island about Daenerys after that night. For generations to come they’ll talk about the Dragon Lady of Bear Island with a sense of wonder and pride.


End file.
